The Most Therapyist Therapist
by TheGreenestChair
Summary: Written around a prompt - a smutty one. Tried to do it justice. Several unsettling, and steamy, recurring dreams leave Santana, you guessed it, unsettled. She's totally absolutely not into women like that, right? Somewhat reluctantly, however, she books that damn appointment for that damn therapist her friend keeps mentioning.
1. Session One

Her fingers ached as she removed them from her dripping wet pussy and and put them in her mouth. An almost involuntary moan escaping her lips as she tasted the unique taste and smelt the musk she'd become so familiar with.

"God, that turns me on when you do that," the girl beneath her says.

"Mmm, that's right, baby, I love the way you taste right after you cum," Santana replies, licking her fingers clean.

She notices the ache deep between her legs has grown into a throbbing pulsation now and she realizes she needs the girls' mouth on her, and in her, now.

"Fuck, are you ready for me to ride your face?"

She can't make out the girl's mumbles as she's lowering herself onto that beautiful face.

Santana wakes up panting and checks herself. Yep, wet again, as she suspected.

Considering it's the fourth or fifth time she's had a dream like this, namely one with a woman in it, in the past month, she's not very surprised at this point. Alarmed, yes, but not surprised.

Steeling herself for now, she decides to go back to sleep because she is definitely absolutely most decidedly not into women. She chants this mantra to herself over and over as she falls back asleep and vows to go through with making that damn appointment first thing in the morning.

Waking up far too early for her liking, she greets the day with a giant wonderful glare as she looks at her reflection in the mirror during her morning ritual. She's got so much on her plate this week, she thinks, as she mentally prepares a to-do list like she does most mornings before getting out there.

Her lack of orgasms lately is so infuriating that she's decided to go through with what her friend, Q, suggested - a therapist. While balking at the idea initially, who is she to need help from some sap with minimal schooling who could give a tiny rat's ass about her well being over the paycheck coming their way?

Alas, after having to fake the last, who knows how many, orgasms with Derek, she decided it was time for action. Well, and with Steven and Anton too, but who's counting right? Not to mention these dreams have been royally annoying her. Sure, she's made out with girls before at parties for attention but that doesn't mean she's actually into them that way.

No, she's not going to a therapist for sexuality issues, it's because she's struggling at work and that's obviously spilling over into the bedroom and elsewhere. Dreams be damned. She needs help with normal heterosexual problems like stress, her temper, and naturally with her relationship(s).

Derek knows they're not exclusive, probably. She knows he's great on paper for her and she should be settling down, like her mother tells her, and Derek would be the perfect arm candy. She needs to just get a handle on her life and then things will fall in place. Or at least that's what she keeps telling herself.

She calls to make the appointment for the therapist she was referred to who her best friend's sister's doctor's shaman recommended or some horse shit like that. Whatever, she doesn't mind as long as there are no shrunken heads in their office or any judgmental stares, for that matter.

Surprisingly, the next opening isn't for three weeks and she almost contemplates giving up on the whole thing. But what she sets her mind to, she does and therefore, she counts down the days until the appointment.

"Is this an office building or someone's condo?" she snarkily thinks to herself as she enters the building her phone directed her to. Curiously looking around the room that she assumes must be the waiting room she sees no one.

"Hmm, nothing like the movies with quirky people and witty banter," she thinks to herself as she spots a sign in sheet on the table next to her. She sees the name at the top of the page, Brittany Pierce, and she knows she's at least in the correct place. Having a female therapist was important to her because she could relate better to her, right? Plus all male doctors she's ever met in her life, and there has been many given her father's profession, have been pompous asses in her eyes.

She's playing a game on her phone, paperwork long forgotten, when a voice permeates the silence in the room.

"You must be Santana Lopez?"

"That's me," She says without glancing up from her phone. She just needs to save this round.

"Cool, are you ready?"

"Yeah, sure," Santana replies. She notices this Brittany is pleasantly much younger than she suspected. She's attractive too, she could be doing something much more profitable than this she thinks. There must be some reason why she's chosen to be a therapist and this instantly makes her suspicious of Brittany's intentions.

"You look deep in thought," Brittany tells her as she sits down on the orange couch opposite of the zebra striped bean bag chair the blonde herself plops into.

"Well, I was just thinking you're very attractive. I mean," she catches herself, "you're more attractive than I would've thought you'd be, you know, as a therapist. I just expected you to be, oh, I don't know, not you," she finishes weakly while trying to convey her thoughts without sounding like a fucking mess.

Brittany smiles widely and says, "Thank you, although, I think beauty is subjective in most cases but coming from you, an objectively gorgeous woman, thank you very much."

Santana narrows her eyes and stares at her trying to gauge her intent. Are therapists allowed to call their patients "objectively gorgeous"? She thinks she must be flattering her so she comes back for more sessions to pad her wallet. The way her eyes seem to almost twinkle, though, she almost seems genuine. When Santana realizes what she just thought to herself and how sappy it sounds, she gives herself a mental smack on the head.

"So, Santana, why don't you start by telling me a little bit about yourself and why you're here today?"

She goes through the same old rigmarole that she's complained to Q about for the past however many months about stress at work, stress at home, stress with her parents, difficulty keeping up at the gym and her lack of orgasms lately. She does, however, neglect to mention that pesky recurring dream as she brushes it off as inconsequential and trivial in nature.

"So, Doc, how are you gonna fix me?" she concludes.

Brittany chuckles at that and grins like she did earlier. "First," she says, "you can call me Brittany and second, there's no easy magic button to fix things, although I wish there was, and well unicorns too if we're wishing for things. Also, I think it's important to note, that I don't think you need to be fixed at all."

"No?" Santana counters.

"Not at all," the blonde replies grinning. "I think you're perfectly wonderful the way you are, Santana , and we can make it our goal to just improve upon what's already there and touch on those issues you just mentioned. If you want to get down to the nitty gritty of it all, I tend to use strategies from both cognitive and dialectical behavior therapy here as I see needed. But really, you're on top. You hold the reins here. You'll get out of this what you put into it, I promise you that."

She is taken back by Brittany's reply. She's not sure what to make of this woman. She gives her a good looking-over and takes in her appearance. It's at this point when she notices she's barefoot sitting with her feet crossed under her since she's on that silly bean bag chair and in a skirt no less. Long legs to match her long arms and _nice tits_...

She stops herself there when she realizes she's staring at the blonde who's wearing a decidedly devious smirk. It's totally normal to want to scrutinize your therapist she thinks to herself, everyone does it, probably.

"Yeah, sure, game on, Britt."

"Great, I'd really love to help you out, Santana."

Brittany is grinning broadly again and she can't keep but think that she just looks so, so...

She can't put her finger on it. She just seems...happy? That must be it. She's just so happy and Santana is just so...not.

She thinks they're like polar opposites as this point and questions Brittany's sincerity. She decides to play a game and see if she can ruffle some feathers. Sex therapy was listed on her website as one of her specializations, after all.

"So, Doc, er, Brittany," she says, "maybe you can help me with something that's been just eating away at me day after day."

"I'll do my best, go on."

"Well, you see, I was watching this movie with my boyf—with my guy friend, who I also fuck every now and then, the other day. It had this scene with two women in it. A blonde and a brunette, funny enough. The blonde had her hand on the other's thigh and was slowly moving it higher and higher up under her skirt. You could tell they were playing a game of How High with each other because they were staring into each other's eyes and were in some sort of booth, secluded yet still most definitely public.

"You could tell the brunette wanted more but she wasn't going to initiate it. The blonde seemed to get her drift though and pushed her skirt up. The brunette lifted her hips to allow the movement to push it up to her waist, effectively exposing herself and giving away her intentions in one fell swoop. The blonde noticed this right away and and told the other what a bad girl she was while she moved her panties to the side and gasped at how wet she already was. She slid her fingers through her pussy and pulled them away slightly creating a trail of wetness connecting her fingers with her slick folds.

"That's when she put her fingers into her mouth and licked them clean before moving closer to the girl and telling her to stay quiet while talking into her ear. She pushed the panties over again but this time she ran her finger up and down her pussy before slipping inside burying her finger. The brunette was obviously having trouble keeping quiet which only seemed to spurn the other girl forward. She was thrusting in and out and started to rub circles around her clit with her thumb. Laughing devilishly, the brunette then added two fingers to the mix.

"She kept at this pace and you could see the girl's heavy breathing from a mile away but she didn't stop. Even when a waiter came to the table, the brunette sweetly asked for another round of drinks while knuckle deep in the other girl. One he left, she took it up a notch and told her to lift her shirt up. With her tits exposed and out in the open, she ordered the brunette to squeeze her own breasts while she looked on and smirked.

"The brunette started moaning rather loudly at this point so the blonde had to put her hand over her mouth while still pounding her hand into the girl. They were somewhat secluded and could get away with their actions as they were only visible from the chest up. Right as the brunette pulled the blonde's hand away and told her she was about to cum, the blonde withdrew her hand and told the brunette she wasn't allowed to yet.

"Then, she made the brunette taste herself and lick her now soaking fingers. They were literally wrinkly from the amount of time spent in her wet pussy. The brunette's eyes rolled back and she seemed to be on the brink of orgasm just from tasting herself on the other girl's fingers.

"The blonde took away her fingers and put them on the girl's throat securely but gently and looked over to the man sitting with them and asked if he thought they should let her cum or not. He said yes and so the blonde finger fucked her 'til she came and then sucked the guy off under the table."

Santana finishes her story and gives Brittany a moment to reply so she can gauge her reaction. Her own cheeks feel a little flushed, granted, she did just make up that story off the top of her head. There was no movie. There might've been a dream similar to that, minus the man, but who's counting anyway, right?

"Well, that's a very unbelievable story," the blonde chuckles.

"Yeah, well, what do you think about it, Doc?"

"I think it sounded hot, well, some parts," she says. "I was curious though if there was a reason you made one a blonde and the other a brunette?"

"No reason, I just picked that because..." she trails off.

"Wait, I never said a made it up, I said it was from a movie. Fuck. Okay, caught me, now what?"

Brittany seems especially pleased with her admission judging by that broad grin she sports again. "I just wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that I'm blonde and you're brunette. If there was any sort of mirroring going on."

"Yeah, well," Santana continues, "the whole point is I've been contemplating having a threesome with my male friend and wanted to explore that idea a bit, that's all."

She fails to mention that there's never been a question of a threesome with Derek, or anyone else for that matter. Nor does she want to mention those thoughts, no, dreams. There are no thoughts, they're all subconscious going-ons in her sleeping mind, that's it.

"Hmm," Brittany seems to think. "How did that little story make you feel? I mean, are you wet right now from it?" She asks with a glint in her eye.

"Wouldn't you like to know," she counters matching her game.

"I think I can guess the answer to that."

"So, Britt, shall I let my friend fuck me and another girl?"

"Santana, I definitely think that if you're truly considering this, you should wait on it," she explains. "Starting therapy is a big change and it's not always good to also make other big changes right away, like a threesome, perhaps. I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess you've never been with another girl. I'm sure you'll have plenty of girls at your beck and call should you decide to go through with it but personally, I don't honk you should. Not right now, at least, okay?"

"Hmm," she says, "we'll see, Doc."

"I'd really love to see you again, though, if you'd like."

Santana's heart skips a beat and she feels... _something_?

Oh, wait, she's talking about for therapy, she thinks to herself.

She mentally slaps herself before setting up her next appointment with the beautiful blonde doctor. She has a PhD so that totally makes her a doctor, right?

As she stands up to leave the office, so does Brittany and she's suddenly struck with the though that she has no idea the proper way to end this meeting. Do they shake hands? Hug? High five?

She decides that the Doc is so bubbly and friendly she must be accepting of hugs and why not see if she can rattle her once more so she goes in for the hug. At that exact moment, Brittany goes in for a handshake and it results in one very awkward and bumbled half shoulder pat on Santana's part.

"Aw, you're cute," Brittany says as she chuckles at her antics.

"Yeah, well, I try," she mumbles under her breath while bolting out the door and not looking back the entire way to her car.

Later on that evening, Santana is replaying the events in her head while sitting on her sofa with her favorite craft beer in hand. Yeah, she's that kind of girl, apparently. Well, okay, maybe it was a gift from Q but, still, tonight is a night where she needs a drink. Clicking through title after title on Netflix, she plays a dangerous game of Netflix Roulette and closes her eyes while choosing a selection from the recommended queue to lull her to sleep.

Shortly thereafter, or perhaps a long time after, she's not quite sure, she hears a knock on her door. It isn't all that unusual given she is sort of a night owl by choice and a reluctant early bird while we're at it. No thinking of much of it and forgetting to check through the side window, what, her building's got good security, she answers the door and opens it slightly.

"Um, B-Brittany?" She manages to stutter out.

"You remembered!" She replies with a glint in her eye while loudly chuckling at her own "joke". "Before you ask, I just had some extra, um, you know..." she trails off while looking Santana up and down as she is stranding at the door in dangerously short shirts and a very thin tank top by the looks of it.

"No, I'm not sure I know what you're getting at," she retorts. Amused at the doctor's lack of eloquence and obvious staring. She knows she's hot but until this moment she wasn't sure if the other girl had noticed yet.

"Paperwork!" She half yells. "I have some very, very, extremely important paperwork I forgot to have you fill out earlier and, well, you know how insurance companies can be I'm sure. I was hoping I could just drop by super duper quickly to get you to fill it out and then I'll be out of your hair lickity split, scouts' honor," she says while holding up what could only be described as the Hook 'Em sign from that college in Texas.

Smiling widely at the doctor's rambling and cuteness, — _is that even a word she's ever used before_? — she opens the door to let her in.

As she closes the door, Brittany suddenly grabs her by the wrist as she walks past and spins her around. With them face to face, she says, "Finally, I've got you just to myself," and roughly pushes Santana towards the wall behind the door. With a heavy thud her back meets the wall and she's left breathless.

Without a moment to spare, the doctor steps forward as close as she can and rests her hands on the wall on either side of her face. "I think it's time to test out this little theory of mine to see how wet you can get for me right here and now which will either prove or disprove my hypothesis," she states. Leaning closer to her face and whispering hotly into her ear she continues, "I'm rarely ever wrong, though."

She leans her head back a bit and licks her lips while looking up and down the brunette's body and noticing very, very stiff nipples poking through her thin shirt, which were definitely not noticeable a few moments ago. With a devious smirk and chuckle she stares straight into her eyes and husks, "Lift up my skirt and take off my panties."

Without even having time to think, Santana stares into those blue eyes and swallows heavily before reaching down.

"Ah, ah, ah," Brittany scolds. "Kneel down while you do it."

"What, excuse me?"

"I think you heard me loud and clear, San," she says sternly with a pointed look.

She almost embarrassingly quickly drops to her knees and begins to slide her hands up the blonde's toned calves to reach her skirt.

"And Santana," she says while gently lifting her chin and angling it up towards her, "make sure to look at me while you do it."

Nodding immediately, she obliges and continues to stare into those baby blues while using both of her hands to slide the material higher and higher up the doctor's legs until it reaches her hips and reveals the tantalizingly small amount of fabric covering the woman in front of her in a decidedly non-professional lacy fabric, but they've left professionalism a long time ago.

Staring in front of her while remaining immobile and trying to steel her courage. She's usually the one being undressed in situations like these after all, not counting in her dreams of course.

"I know it's pretty to look at, darling, but go on like the good girl I know you are."

Feeling a rush of encouragement, or maybe arousal, course through her, Santana decides to up the ante and reaches around to the woman's, as she soon finds out, very round and firm ass to slowly pull down the panties with her hands reaching around back while pushing her face into the front to lightly nip and use her more than ample lips to help the front side go down as well.

She softly nudges her nose a little bit further into the girl in front of her than is necessary but smells that unique scent that makes her immediately clench her own thighs in response of her increasing arousal, yes, there's no denying this is turning her on immensely. If she had time to stop and think she might even be embarrassed about how much this is turning her on.

Sitting back on her heels she looks smugly back up at the blonde standing above her but can't help but keep her eyes from darting back and forth between those eyes and the glistening pussy on display before her.

"That's a good girl," she says as she helps Santana back onto her feet and guides her hand down to her center while locking eyes with her and smiling that broad smile again.

She gasps as her fingers make contact with the bare wet flesh before her and tentatively moves her fingers around exploring the smooth folds between her fingers. Looking in down in awe, her mouth drops open as she feels the doctor's wet folds and is struck with a curious desire to know what it feels like to be inside of her, what she tastes like, and what she sounds like when she cums all at the same time and she almost can't decide what to do next.

Desire spurning her on, she moves her index finger lower looking for that spot where she can be inside or the blonde in front of her. Smiling when she finds it she moves her finger and down and then upwards slowly into her pussy.

"Mmm, that's it,"

"Yeah?" Santana breathes out, "You like that?"

"Mm-hmm, let's see what else you can do."

Brittany responds while moving her hips forcefully downwards and gripping Santana's wrist and holding it firmly to essentially ride the girls hand and letting out a low moan.

She can feel her legs weaken as her own panties start to stick to her while she tries to clench her thighs to relieve...something, yet, in vain.

She needs to feel more so she grabs onto Brittany's bicep that's still leaning on the wall and uses that leverage to slightly pull her hand free from that dripping pussy which elicits a definite whine from the blonde before adding another two fingers and picking up her pace from before.

Needing and wanting more, she moves her hand from her bicep and moves it under Brittany's shirt and glides it up her abs and roughly pulls down the fabric of the bra she finds before palming the mound of flesh it releases.

Feeling the girl's nipple harden between her fingers while effectively fucking her with her other hand, Santana moans and the sensations and closes her eyes while realizing she's more turned on that she can remember without even being touched herself.

Smirking at the moan that fell from the brunette's lips, Brittany moves forward to run her tongue up the shell of the girl's ear while whispering lowly, "That feel good, baby? Fucking me against the wall and soaking yourself in the process?"

She squeezes her eyes shut and finds herself nodding slowly before burying her face into the doctor's shoulder and lightly biting down eliciting another moan and an particularly hard thrust of the girl's hips down onto her hand.

Wanting to fuck this girl into tomorrow, Santana drops her hand from underneath her shirt and wraps it around her waist to brace herself and finger fuck her pussy harder than before while moving her thumb up to the girls dripping clit and rubbing circles around it like she's done to herself on countless occasions, both awake and within her dreams, although mostly the latter these days.

"Oh, fuck, that's it. You're really good at this, Santana," she husks into her ear.

Licking her way up the blonde's neck and telling her how wet it makes he while she fucks her like this seems to cause the walls to clench slightly around her fingers and feels just exquisitely delicious and she wants more of it.

Before she can fully have her way with the blonde and fuck her into oblivion, Brittany reaches down and slows her hand and sets a slightly slower pace while leaning back and saying, "Okay, okay, slow down just a bit so I don't..." she trails off. Licking her lips and looking downwards mischievously she breathes out, "Spread your legs."

Instinctively widening her stance, Santana keeps her eyes trained on blue while a pale arm slides along her stomach and teases under the top edge of her tiny shorts.

"Let's test my hypothesis and see if you're wet for me, baby."

Gulping and leaning her head back against the wall, she closes her eyes as she feels those long fingers skirt under the top edge of her shorts and slide down easily straight between her own folds.

"Mmm," an appreciate moan escapes the blonde's lips as she brings her fingers suddenly up towards her face and then places one on Santana's full bottom lip and slides it into her mouth where the girl eagerly wraps her tongue her digits and laps the wetness off from them.

"You're wetter than I expected. Geez, you're practically soaking through your shorts with how much you want this. You want more?"

Still sucking on her fingers, she moans and nods her head as the blonde chuckles and smirks while she removes her hand and resumes her explorations in the girl's shorts and wastes no time in finding her own entrance and slipping two fingers inside.

With her own tight wet heat already clenching around the doctor's fingers, she knows she won't last very long in this game and does her best to speed up her own ministrations inside the blonde.

Matching her thrust for thrust, the blonde's forearm muscles flex with each pump into her dripping pussy. As things become more heated, she suddenly rips Santana's shirt down her shoulder, exposing one of her breasts and roughly palms it in her hand while exclaiming, "My, these are glorious tits,"

With that, she leans down to suck on her neck while rolling the nipple between her fingers. Moaning loudly enough to make the blonde look up at her and grin, she leans, once again, back against the wall as she is fucked by the girl in front of her and while she tries to keep doing the same in return.

Lightly nipping on her neck and running her tongue over the hot flesh, Brittany begins to push herself forward into the brunette as close as possibly and pinning their arms between them with just enough room for their own thrusts into each other.

After pressing her thumb a bit harder than before on the blonde's throbbing clit and feeling her walls clench around her fingers in return, Santana continues that pattern until she feels the blonde's fingers inside of her still as the opposite seems to happen around her own fingers buried deep inside the other girl.

She feels the rhythmic clenching that seems to almost try and put a vice grip on her fingers and try to pull them deeper and deeper inside the blonde as she rides out her orgasm. Burying her head into Santana's neck she bites down during the height of her orgasm, sure to leave a remanent of their encounter.

Getting the girl off and making her cum first only serves to heighten the pleasure she's feeling from her own dripping wet core. While the blonde's still in an almost slumped state against her, satiated and glowing, she can't wait any longer and begins to grind herself down onto the the fingers that are still buried inside of her, yet, stock still.

This seems to somewhat spark the blonde to life, if only barely, as she very weakly starts to curl her fingers that are knuckle deep in the brunette. Instinctively reaching down to rub her clit herself along with the slight curling from the blonde, this send her over the edge to her own release.

"Jesusfuckohmyfuck," she cries out with her head leaning back in the the wall as she feels her own walls delightfully pulsate and clench around those amazing digits inside of her.

Both girls breathing heavily leaning onto each other for support in their post-orgasmic state, the blonde begins to say, "San, that was ju—"

When she's abruptly cut off by the brunette, "Shut the fuck up," she says while looking into the doctor's eyes and nodding slightly. "Just keep fucking me until I tell you to stop."

Feeling the tell-tale sign of her pleasure not subsiding after the last of the pulsations, she knows she can ride out another orgasm if she only has the will to do so.

With a gleam in her eye and a smile on her face, the blonde sees to understand this as well and starts thrusting agin with vigor while using her other hand to hold the brunette's throat firmly and securely while keep her gazed fixed on those dark hooded eyes.

Holding the blonde's wrist to help get the right angles and pressure to get to her destination as quickly as possible, she also grinds her own hips down in the exact right motion to get that familiar tingling sensation of her oncoming release, again, not even two minutes after the last mind-blowing one.

With a strangled cry, she cums all over the blonde's hand this time with her juices literally dripping down onto her forearm leaving a wet trail and, in a way, leaving her own remanent. Her own gloriously sticky remanent that she can't help but fight the urge to happily lap up from her arm as a small thank you for this night.

She does, however, stop herself, if only to give her enough time to appreciate the blonde standing before her. Sure, she's noticed that she was attractive upon first glance, who wouldn't? In this post orgasmic state though, she's positively breathtaking.

Jesus Christ, when did she become such a fucking sap, she thinks to herself.

Withdrawing her own hand she goes to wipe them on the back of her own shorts when that magical hand reaches out and grabs her own to bring it up to Brittany's parted lips and return the favor of sucking on her own digits while that equally magical tongue runs over them at the same time small giggles are coming from that same amazing mouth.

"Taste good?" she tentatively asks the blonde.

"Hmm, a little more courageous I see. I guess two orgasms will do that to a girl."

Blushing, Santana replies, "Shut up, " and also erupts into a fit of giggles.

Jesus Christ, since when does she giggle, she also thinks to herself.

"Best home visit ever," the blonde almost cheers while looking into those now glowing and slightly less hooded dark eyes from before.

"So this is the first time you've done...stopped by a client's house?"

She sees that broad grin appear on the blonde's face for about the millionth time that day.

She knows what's coming next, no pun intended, even before the blonde begins to speak.

"It's time to wake up, honey."

And with that, Santana is awake and more frustrated than ever. Not to mention she now has another thing to add to her list of "issues" to work on, that is, if she can even face her therapist again.

About the Author 

She's mysterious as fuck. 


	2. Session Two

Session Two:

Quite unsurprisingly Santana wakes up from a passionate, yet very wet, dream yet again for the umpteenth time in who knows how long. What's most unsettling this time, aside from the fact it invoked another woman and no men in sight, is that it involved her new therapist and she just knows this can't be a good sign, right?

Going over the events from the dream, how her blonde therapist pushed her against the wall and fucked her senseless. How she succumbed to her commands and melted like butter under her fingers. With Derek, she was usually in charge so that must be what's gnawing at her subconscious, right?

It's just a dominance thing and she sees Brittany in a position of power so it's only natural that gorgeous and perky blonde shows up in her dreams. It has nothing to do with her amazing body, long legs, perfect tits...

With a shake of her head, Santana steels herself and puts something on the tv to distract herself from those instructive thoughts. Thoughts about cumming multiple times at the hand of her therapist and watching as it dripped down her forearm... Nope, she's not doing that to herself she thinks.

She decides it must be because she's frustrated and, yeah, she is pretty wet between her legs from that dream. Extremely wet if she's being honest with herself. If she did orgasm it was while sleeping and she definitely doesn't feel as satiated as she would expect following a dream of that intensity.

The only rational thing to do is rub one out, she supposes.

Picking up her phone and calling Derek, she decides she needs some verbal encouragement to get her through this and he's always up and willing, in more ways than one. Not to mention the porn websites have been a little less desirable lately and haven't really done it for her. Well, that's what you get with free porn or at least that's what she figures.

"Hey, you," he answers on the first ring. "What's up?"

"Couldn't sleep. Bored."

"Yeah, yeah, me too," he replies a little too raspily to make that statement completely believable.

"What are you up to anyway?"

"Not much. I wish you were here though."

"Me too, me too," she says, or lies, whatever. Deciding to get things started she says, "What would you do to me if I was there?"

"Hmm, feeling frisky? I love it when you're hot for me, babe. I'd really love to see those glorious tits of yours right now. Have I told you before how perfect they are?"

"Yeah, plenty of times," she murmurs while pulling down her top a but to expose her breasts and massaging them herself. She does have fantastic tits if she does say so herself, well, she should at least considering how much they cost. They're almost like Brittany's just slightly larger. She wonders if hers are real, they must be she concludes. They're so perky and she even thinks she was able to discern that the girl wasn't even wearing a bra during their first session. Granted her top was dark but she's sure she could see her nipples poking out.

She stops and mentally slaps herself. She needs to focus on the task at hand, pun intended.

"My cock is getting hard for you, Santana."

Oh, yeah, Derek's still on the line, that's right. "Oh, yeah? I'm putting my hand in my panties and rubbing my clit for you," she rasps and follows through true to her word. Surprisingly, or not so surprisingly maybe given her very recent dream, she's already wet and majorly turned on.

She's ready to get her groove on so to speak and get this wrapped up so she can go back to sleep so she continues on, "I wish you were here right now so you could push me up against the wa...er couch and turn me around so I was facing away from you."

"Mmm, babe, I'm so hard for you right now. I wa—"

"And then I'd want you to rip my shirt off of me and reach around to the front and in between my legs. I'm dripping wet already just thinking about it."

"I'm doing it, babe, I'm doing it right now. Tell me what you want."

She's got two of her fingers inside of herself and she's moving them in and out rather quickly and can feel her walls clench every few thrusts or so. She compares it to how it felt when Brittany did the same thing in the dream and how she came so hard, twice. She tries to emulate the way the blonde had finger fucked her so good.

"I want you to fuck my pussy with as many fingers as you can fit and stretch me out. Mmm, I'm doing that now for you and it feels so good, I'm so wet for he...you. Take your other hand and hold my neck from behind while you fuck me, Derek."

"Yeah, babe, I'm doing that now. Can you feel my rock hard cock rubbing against your ass?"

She slows down her pace slightly at that mental image, something about it just not sitting right with her. But, nonetheless, she continued on and kept thinking about that pale hand on her neck while she fucks herself.

"Uh, yeah, hold me tighter and fuck me harder. Ooh, I'm close, I'm going to cum all over your hand," she says while she can feel that well known sensation starting to build between her legs signaling that her release is so close if she can just get over that edge.

"Ooh, that's right. And I'll bend you over and slip my cock in your hot tight pussy. Ugh, I'm gonna cum, Santana ," Derek says as he lets out a strangled groan.

Suddenly, the feeling is gone from her center and she grunts out a, "No, damnit."

After listening to Derek breathe heavily for a few moments she hears a light chuckle. "Was it good for you too, babe?

"So good," she deadpans yet he doesn't seem to notice.

"Well, I've gotta go get cleaned up and ready for bed anyway. Talk to you soon?"

"Sure. See ya," she says while she hangs up and searches for some porn on her phone until she eventually falls asleep in a rather bad mood.

Later that week, she decides to meet up with Q for lunch. She's the one who convinced her to see a therapist after all and she figures she should give her an update.

"Well, I went to see her."

"Who?" Quinn questions.

"Britt, Brittany. That therapist or whatever that you begged me to go see."

"Oh. And how was it?" She asks while giving Santana a dubious look. They both know she's notionally closed off from people and the idea of even seeing a therapist was a big deal for her to even give into.

"Not as bad as I expected. She seemed a little..." she trails off not quite knowing how to describe this new blonde in her life. She'll never admit to the dream or any of the previous dreams that matter. Not to Q at least. Not yet.

"A little?"

"Um, happy? I guess. I don't know, Q. She was like maybe a little too happy? Doesn't she know how fucked up the world is? What's her story anyway?"

"Hmmm, is that such a bad thing really? Maybe it can counteract some of your negative juju," she laughs only earning a scowl from the brunette before her. "But I don't really know. All I really know is that Kevin and Lisa really liked her when they went to her last year."

"Oh, that's how you heard of her?"

"Yes, and," she starts to whisper, "do you want to know a secret?"

Um, yes, of course she does so she nods her head in the affirmative.

"They saw her as a sex therapist! Although she did so some individual counseling with the both of them too."

This piques her interest. "I did see that as a specialty listed on her website. So, what, did they like just fuck in front of her or something?"

Quinn laughs and slaps her on the arm. "Jesus, no, could you imagine? I think she just had them like explain their issues and stuff and helped them find out things to help them both out if you know what I mean. Whatever she did though, Lisa could not stop bragging about their sex lives after that. It was kinda gross, actually."

"Hmm." She thinks this might be important information but she's not sure why yet. "And do you know anything about her? Like as a person? Is she married? Does she have a boyfriend? Or a girlfriend?" She chances.

"Yeah, I'm not sure but I do know this," Quinn says right as her phone rings. Of course it's her mother and she has to jet out on the rest of their lunch, classic Q.

She pays the bill and throws a rushed, "I'll text you later," as she leaves the restaurant leaving behind a decidedly grumpy looking brunette.

The day for their second session takes forever to get there it seems. She's not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

She walks into the blonde's office to notice that this time instead of that zebra striped bean bag chair the blonde sat on last time, there's now a weight bench across from the couch where she sat last time.

"Ada, nice to see you again," the blonde greets as she ushers her into her office, placing her hand at the small of her back as she does so.

It feels a lot warmer and securer than it should feel, or at least that's what goes through the brunette's head at that moment thinking the moment can't end soon enough but also she doesn't want it to end? I'm a fucking mess, she thinks.

"Yeah, you too, doc."

The blonde giggles and replies, "Now, Santana, am I going to have to start giving you demerits for being so formal with me? I already told you to call me Britt."

"Sure thing, doc," she replies with a mischievous smirk. She's determined to get this blonde figured out or at least see if she can ruffle her feathers. It's not flirting, it's educational. She can't let just anyone be involved with her mental health, right?

With one eyebrow raised, the blonde seems to question her as she sits down onto the weight bench. The only thing is though that it's facing perpendicular to the couch so she spreads her legs and straddles it.

Instantaneously it seems an image of the blonde straddling something else seems to enter her mind and she realizes she's staring down at those legs before looking up and realizing she's been caught. Trying to play it off, she has some pride after all, she says, "Just curious about that new chair you've got there?"

"Right," the blonde laughs out and goes on to explain that she spilled something on the bean bag and had to find something as a temporary replacement and this was the only other option in the building. "Well, Santana , I wanted to see what you thought about our last session? I wouldn't hold anything against you if you thought we weren't a good fit, you know, sometimes it takes people a few different therapists before they find the right fit."

The brunette finds her legs instinctively clenching at the mention of being held up against something, namely a wall.

"Oh, no, I like you, Britt. Well, what I mean is my friend, Q, says she thinks it might be good for me to have a therapist that's so...different from my negative shit to maybe counteract it," she confesses while feeling her cheeks heating up at that little admission that slipped out in the beginning.

"Well, I like you too, San."

"Great, I mean, alright, sure, um, thank you?"

The blonde giggles and leans back on her hands to stretch out her back. The brunette suddenly remembers a burning question from a few nights ago and suddenly blurts out, "Are they real?" She almost dies and tries to recover, "I mean, are those diplomas on the wall over there, are they real? You're like a real doctor and all right?"

Narrowing her eyes and studying the girl before a little bit before answering, she giggles and replies, "Of course they're real but try not to focus so much on my chest...of drawers over there. This is about you and what's going on in your life."

"Right, so about that," she says, "I have been having a little bit of trouble maybe, you know, in the bedroom" she mumbles as the looks down and suddenly needs to check the state of her cuticles.

"Santana, sweetie, this is a safe place. You can tell me about anything you'd like, no judgement at all."

This seems to spur her on a bit and gives her the courage to go on and test the blonde's boundaries a bit. "Okay, well, yeah, I've had a bit of trouble...finishing the past week or so."

"Hmm, you mean like procrastination?"

"No, not that," the brunette says as she tries to think of a polite way to phrase it to the seemingly innocent blonde before her. "Orgasming, you know? I've sorta maybe not been able to cum lately when I've been, you know, alone. Not that I've orgasmed with someone, I mean, I could if I wanted to. Be with someone that is, I just haven't, wanted to. So, yeah, I've been busy or whatever and a girls gots her needs, right? So I've been trying to do my usual stuff and I get so close but can't seem to quite get there. Which is odd because I didn't seem to have any trouble with yo— with you know, before, with before."

"Well, I can definitely see how that would be frustrating. it's natural and any kind of changes in your sex drive or sex life can really affect things. May I ask how it is you normally bring yourself to orgasm, when it's just you?"

"Um, circles I guess?"

The blonde chuckles and says, "What I mean is, what is it that you use to get you into the mood or to get you aroused?"

"Oh, yeah, well I guess I'll watch some porn or maybe I'll call up a friend or something to maybe help, yeah, or whatever."

"Okay, well, let's talk about the most recent time then, can you describe that for me?"

"I guess, yeah, sure. Are you sure you really want to know, doc?"

"Of course, San, I want to help you in any way possible."

"Alright. So, I woke up and I was in the mood, you know, like I was wet and ready but porn just hadn't been doing it lately, you know, so I called up my boyf...my friend and tried the phone sex stuff, which has worked in the past, more or less. So I was, you know, touching myself and everything was going fine and all and when we were both nearing the end, it just went away and that's that.

"Hmmm, okay, so let's see if we can dial in on what it was that caused that reversal, okay? I'd like you to try something for me, Santana. Close your eyes and lean back in a comfortable position."

With a slight scowl on her face, she complies and closes her eyes while leaning back into the puffy couch.

"Great, okay, now let's go ahead and kind of relive that phone call if you will. I can help with the other side of the conversation if you'd like me to or not but lets see if we can try and pinpoint where it was that the conversation went sour, shall we?"

The brunette nods her head and can't believe what she's agreeing to. If this will help with her "problem" and get rid of the dreams, then she's game. Right? Or is she.

"Okay, so where did you start touching yourself?"

Gulping loudly, she answers, "Here" motioning to her breasts.

"Fantastic. That's a really great exogenous zone for solo pleasure, Santana . Now, did that get you wet or did you have to do something else?"

Suddenly feeling like the room was getting hotter, the brunette felt her cheeks flush at that question. Not wanting to confess she was already soaked through her panties by the time she started touching herself that night because she has just dreamt that she had fucked, been fucked by, and tasted the blonde, she replied, "Uh, yeah, I did, but, you know, like I said, I was already frustrated that night, so..."

"Good, good, I'm glad," the blonde says, "I mean, it's a good sign because that means we know it's probably not something biological right? That's good because we want that to happen, i.e. you to get aroused, when I—I mean, when you or someone touches you in one of your erogenous zones. Okay, go on."

Not wanting to admit it, she tries to ignore the wetness pooling between her legs now imaging the blonde touching "her erogenous zones".

"Yeah, so then I started touching myself."

"I'm going to need you to be a little more exact, just so we can really get down to the bottom of this, Santana,"

"Um, okay. Well I guess I started rubbing my clit. I was already pretty wet so...yeah. Then I started to, um, finger myself with two fingers just like in the dr—in the past."

The brunette sneaks a peak from her closed eyes to see that the blonde has changed positions and is no longer straddling the bench and is now sitting with her legs crossed on one side of it. And, does she look flushed?

"Also, good, very good. So now, let me ask you, what were you imagining or doing on the phone at this point in time?"

"Um, okay, well I guess I was maybe talking about my friend holding my neck from behind and fingering me, yeah."

"Hmm, interesting. I thought so."

'What?"

"Just that I had my suspicions that you acted like a top but deep down you really did like to be told what to do and to submit. Just a hunch though, we'll see, I mean, we'll find out."

With all of those mental images swirling around, the brunette could feel herself almost throbbing between her legs now and doubting this whole thing to begin with.

"Okay, so it seems like everything was going as planned so far. What happened next, up until you lost the arousal?"

"Hmm, well, yeah, so I was imagining that and then my friend was close to coming so he said something about putting it in from behind or something and then he came right away, bastard, and that was it, doc."

After that, she opens her eyes to find the blonde's blue ones staring at her intently. Almost making her squirm from her position on the couch under that gaze.

"Okay, well I have some thoughts about that but let's not discuss that now until I've gathered more...research," she says and motions with her hand towards the couch. "What I think wold help us now is to work on some mindfulness exercises and you can really think about and become in tune with your body. The more present you can be, the better you'll be able to see and catch onto the clues your body is giving you. Why don't you lie down for me?"

Really enjoying where this is headed, the brunette readily complies and lays back down on the oh so comfy couch beneath her.

"Okay, so with your eyes closed, I want you to focus on how your toes feel. Don't move them but just think about your toes, those cute painted ten lovely toes. Stay as still as you can and think about nothing other than those toes. What it feels like to have toes."

After several moments of the brunette thinking about her fucking toes, the blonde continues, "Okay, great, now let's do the same with your lower legs. Let's think about those calves. Keep your mind completely blank except for those calves."

This goes on for what seems like an eternity and the blonde has her think about what it feels like with every single body part she has, it seems, from her toes on up ending with a peaceful five minute meditation.

When she reaches the top of her head the blonde tries something else. "Okay, now let's try something else, okay? I want you to now think about how this feels and focus only on this," she says as she lightly places her hand along the brunette's calf which automatically flexes under her touch.

She didn't even feel her move to the couch and opens her eyes to see her kneeling on the floor beside her.

"Uh, uh, uh," the blonde says, "keep your eyes closed or this won't work, darling."

Ready for whatever the blonde wanted to do to her next, maybe a little too ready, she readily closes her eyes and tries to relax her body.

Slowly that gloriously soft hand starts to creep up her leg to her thigh. Then to her upper thigh where she begins to draw light circles around the skin just below her shorts.

"Hmm, okay, and now, are you able to focus on my hand here and nothing else?"

"Mmmm."

"Great, you're doing great. So let's see if everything still okay, biologically speaking that is," she says as she moves her hand up to her chest and begins massaging her breast over her shirt.

"Is this how you did it, baby, or was it under your shirt?"

"U-u-under."

With that, the blonde slides her hand under her shirt, gliding over her toned abs, and sneaks her hand under the bra to massage the mound of flesh.

As she begins to roll her nipple between her fingers, she asks, "Okay, so are you getting wet for me, is this working like it did that night for you?"

"Ummm," the brunette replies biting her lip and not wanting to answer that question.

"Shhh, it's okay, I'll just do some research myself and find out for us."

With her other hand she slowly begins to tease her fingers along the waistband of her shorts and dip them slightly below. Then, with a soft giggle, she dips her hand under her shorts and into her panties where she's immediately greeted with very, very wet silky folds of flesh.

"Mmm, that's good, I mean, for research purposes of course."

Running her finger up and down her wet folds, she then stops at the top and takes one of the brunette's hands with her other hand.

Immediately missing the hand that was under her shirt she whines and opens her eyes to see the blonde hovering just above her with dark hooded eyes and parted lips.

Staring intently at each other, the blond guides her hand down that's still holding the brunette's hand, towards where her other hand is still rubbing through slick velvety folds.

"Now, this is very important, I want you to guide my hand and move it how you did that night so we can see, and I can feel, exactly how you respond to it," she husks out as she places the brunette's hand on top of her hand rubbing patterns between her legs.

"Mmmm," she agrees with a slight nod and begins to tentatively move the blonde's hand up towards her, now swollen and throbbing clit, and guide it around in tight circles.

Moving around her clit, the blonde slightly rolls it between her fingers and leans down to her ear where she breathes out, "Is this how you touched yourself, baby?"

"You do it better, I mean, yes."

With her free hand, Santana grabs the blonde's other hand to move it up to her chest and says, "You know, I was still massaging here too," and bites her lip while she looks pleadingly up at the blonde.

Putting her hand under her shirt once again and roughly pulling down her bra to grab her tit and massage the flesh there before rolling her now very erect nipple between her fingers, the blonde leans toward her ear once more and says, "When did you start fucking yourself?" And licks up the shell of her ear.

With that, the brunette feels even more wetness begin to pool between her legs and helps curve the blonde's hand down and guide two of her fingers inside of her now soaked pussy. "Right now," she gasps as those two long slender fingers enter her and start thrusting roughly.

The blonde begins to thrust faster and faster and then she feels a hand stop hers and guide it out only to have her guide three fingers inside this time and start thrusting like before.

"I think it was a bit harder, ugh, Britt."

The blonde takes that queue and moves to lean down on top of the brunette with her knee between her legs to help use her body weight while she fucks the girl beneath her.

"And I think I'm supposed to do this too, right?" She says as she moved her other hand up to her neck to hold it there gently yet securely.

"Oh, fuck," the brunette gasps as she can feel that familiar coil start to tighten.

With her hand on her neck and her other hand three knuckle deep inside her dripping pussy, the blonde leans down to lightly nip and suck on the shell of her ear while whispering that she's a good girl and asks if she's going to cum for her.

Nodding and licking her lips, she reaches up and pulls the blonde down to meet her in a searing kiss where she immediately darts her tongue into her mouth to see what she tastes like and swirl it around the other girl's tongue.

With that, Santana cries out, "Oh, fuck, oh my god, fuuu-," as her orgasm crashes down and she feels a gush soul down into the blonde's hand that's still fucking her gently. With the reverberating clenching around those amazing fingers, she rides out her programs as long as she can and tries to prolong it for as long as possible so she doesn't have to face whatever rules they just broke by fucking in her office.

With her eyes tightly shut, she hears the blonde whisper, "I knew you were a bottom," before giggling lightly and sitting back on her heels.

Pulling her fingers out from her shorts and slowly bringing them up to her mouth while never breaking eye contact with the brunette, she licks around her fingers tantalizingly before sucking them into her mouth to suck up the remaining wetness.

Then, she stands up and starts to walk away but then turns around and comes back toward the brunette. With one hand on her shoulder, she leans down and tells her, "San, San, sweetie, it's time."

"Huh?" She opens her eyes with the blonde standing over her.

"Our time is up, sweetie. Well it was actually up about 20 minutes ago but I you looked so peaceful I couldn't wake you up but, sadly, I have an appointment I have to get to. You look super refreshed though. Meditation does wonders, huh?"

Santana blinks slowly and tries to absorb all the blonde just told her. 20 minutes? Wake me up?

"I-I-I fell asleep?"

The blonde nods and giggles out a, "Yes, silly head,"

"So we didn't...I mean you and I, we...you didn't conduct any research?"

"Um, no, not really. I kinda just let you sleep, you looked so cute. But I did take a picture, what's your number, I'll text it to you," she says with a smile.

"Uh, okay, it's, here let me put it in for you," as she tries to remember her number, still a little dazed by her earth shattering orgasm, which apparently didn't happen again.

Putting her number into the blonde's phone and putting her name in as The Hot Brunette with a smiley face, Santana starts to sit up to get ready to go.

"Actually, Santana, I'd like to see you again, I mean, like more often. I think we could really make some good progress here, provided you don't sleep with me, I mean, sleep through all of it," she says with a wink.

"Yeah, I'd like that, doc," the brunette says, firing off her own wink. Two can play at this game. The blonde is playing a game, right? Fuck, she needs to call Q up again for lunch. Or maybe Kevin and Lisa?


	3. Session Three

Session Three:

 _Jesus fucking Christ_ , Santana thought to herself, _another wet dream about my blonde therapist and in front of her during a session_!

After having a dream about said blonde on the couch during a session when she fell asleep after meditating, or whatever, and decidedly ruining her panties, again, she's not really able to deny her attraction any longer. Whether it's to women in general, though, she's going to deny that for as long as she can.

She's only lusting after this particular blonde because, well, she's gorgeous, her body's rocking, her tits are amazing, but most importantly, she's her therapist. It must be a common occurrence to fantasize about your therapist. They are in a position of power and care about your well-being, or at least pretend to - or at least that's what Google tells her and she's more than happy to stick to that theory, for now.

Yes, she might have been already dealing with similar dreams prior to meeting this blonde, although not as strongly, but that's also beside the point, right?

Maybe I should find another therapist, an ugly old wrinkly one? That thought seems to fly into her head as quickly as she shuts it out and can't, for some reason, think of the possibility of not seeing the blonde anymore as her heart rate seems to pick up its pace. She tells herself it's only because she's great at what she does. When was the last time she slept so soundly and in the presence of someone else, nonetheless? When was the last time she let someone scrutinize her life, if ever, or allowed that to happen without uttering any snarky or curse word riddled comments?

After much internal debate, she decides the blonde is good for her. Q also agreed with that sentiment the last time they talked as well, which effectively reminds her to seek out a date with her, and Kevin and Lisa. She hasn't seen them in a long time . . . and not to mention they also saw the blonde for their apparent sex therapy. Deciding on her plan of action, she calls her best friend to set up the date.

"Hey, bitch, whatcha doing up so late," she asks when her friend answers the phone.

"Love you too, San. What do you want?"

"How dare you insinuate I would call with an ulterior motive other than just wanting to catch up with my very bestest friend," she feigns offense.

"Yeah, yeah, I've known you and your shit for too long now."

"Well, since you ask, I was thinking you, me, maybe some friends, some shots, some dancing, this weekend?"

"Hmmm, I could be down for that."

"Great, you'll hit up maybe, um, Kevin and Lisa maybe and arrange it all, right?"

"Yeah, sure thing."

"Awesome, love you, hot stuff! Text me the deets."

"Yeah, yeah, bye, bitch."

Smiling to herself in satisfaction as her cunning affinity for being so sneaky and keeping things on the down low, she readies herself for bed when she hears the familiar chime of her phone. Checking her phone to get the details for this weekend that most likely Quinn just texted her, she's surprised to find a photo instead.

Even more surprising is the fact that the picture is of herself - sleeping on her therapist's couch. Inwardly groaning she remembers her last session vividly or at least what she was dreaming of when that picture was taken. Blushing immediately and feeling a familiar arousal start to heat up between her legs, she groans and wants to turn off her phone when it strikes her that Brittany just texted her.

 _Her_ blonde just texted her. Wait, _the_ blonde, she corrects herself. Without very long to inwardly stew and sputter trying to think of what, if anything to reply, she receives a new message from the blonde.

 _So cute. My new phone background :) - Britt_

Feeling her heart rate now reach levels of uncharted territory, she really has no idea what to respond. But, wait, she thinks, is she flirting? Should she flirt back? She needs to say something. She needs to get on top. . . of this situation.

 _Just kidding, my background is still of my pussy._

She can do this. She's a pro at bringing men to their feet begging for a chance to even lay their coats down as she walks through a puddle or whatever shit it is that they think she's looking for.

 _Show me that pussy_ , she types out before erasing it and shaking her head. _I'd love to see that_ , no. _Can I please see that? DTSMTP? Down to show me that pussy_? No, no, no. When did things get so complicated she thinks.

After typing, erasing, and re-typing, she finally comes up with the perfect reply.

 _lol really?_

She hits send and immediately curses herself for not analyzing it for five more minutes. Does she sound too breezy? Too aloof? Should she have said she was breezy in the message? Would that have negated the breeziness?

Sparing her from her turmoil, her phone chimes with a new message and she almost drops her phone as she fumbles with her fingers trying to open the app.

A fucking pussy cat is what she's greeted with.

Although she does notice that the screenshot was taken when her very own, clever and extremely perfect, message was displayed at the top and her contact is still in there as The Hot Brunette. She didn't change it. In fact, she added a smiley face to her contact.

She most definitely was not imaging what the blonde's pussy looked like. That she probably keeps it shaved and undoubtedly has perfect lips matching the same fair tone of her skin that would contrast amazingly with her own when her fingers ran through those folds and revealed a delicious darker pink that would glisten in the light from the juices she could coax out with her fingers and tongue. She was absolutely not thinking about that. And she's definitely not going to be thinking about that while she tries to sleep and will ignore her own wetness that has accumulated between her legs along with a dull ache that seemed to appear as she was (not) imagining what it would taste like to lick up and down that glorious aforementioned pussy.

It's going to be a long night, she thinks to herself as she puts on something boring on Netflix to fall asleep to and help ensure no more sneaky wet dreams for her.

The weekend couldn't get here fast enough and she's beyond excited to be able to let loose with her best friend and Kevin and Lisa.

Deciding on an off the shoulder body-con dress, she's ready for her night out on the town and puts the destination into the magical app on her phone that orders the ride for her to whatever club it is that they're meeting at tonight.

Tipping her drive on the app and fumbling a bit while maneuvering herself out of the car while not showing off too much in her dress, — what she likes them high cut? — she enters the club and heads straight for the bar to get her liquid courage going before looking for her party.

Finding themselves a booth in the back, they fall into easy conversation while catching up on each others' lives. After numerous shots and changes of topics, she finds a way to naturally weave the blonde into the conversation. Mission Blond Intel is a go.

"So, Santana, I hear you're going to Brittany. How're you liking it so far?" Lisa asks.

"Yeah, she's alright. She's. . . unique right?"

"Hmm, what do you mean?"

"Well, just like, extra playful maybe? Or happy? Or shit, i don't know, you know what I mean, right?"

"Maybe you've had one too many, Santana," Kevin adds.

"Bullshit," she replies to which the entire booth laughs and she thinks maybe Kevin may have a point.

"She was like ultra uptight I thought," he goes on to explain.

"Uptight? You're kidding right?"

"No?"

"She's like the opposite of that. Almost, dare I say, borderline unprofessional?" Santana cringes as she finishes that sentence.

"Hmmm, not so sure about that, San," Lisa explains, "maybe because of the subject matter she was helping us with but she was almost like textbook formal and stuff."

"Yeah, about that," Santana trails off, devolving into lighthearted chuckles from around the table.

"Best thing to happen to me in the bedroom."

"Shut up, Kevin," admonishes Lisa with a smile.

"I'm just saying, she knows her stuff," he says with a wink and a smile as he finishes his beer.

"Speaking of, you ready to head out, babe?" he asks as he wiggles his eyebrows.

After they leave and umpteen shots later, Santana and Quinn decide to move out onto the dance floor to throw it down, or whatever it is that it's called these days.

Feeling the alcohol coursing through her system and making things just, better and warmer and easier. Quinn seems to easily attract some mustachioed man to dance with as they start to fan out a bit on the dance floor. Never being one to have men grope her from behind, or from the front for that matter, on the dance floor, she tries to stay to herself as much as possible and finds herself closing her eyes while feeling the beat of the music moving her on.

Opening her eyes a bit later, she looks around to see her friend in the distance with Mr. Mustache still and she takes a look around to check out this bar she's in when she notices a sexy blonde across the dance floor. What is it with me and fucking blondes, she thinks when she realizes she's staring at the dancing girl in front of her.

She notices that this blonde is dancing pretty awesomely, is that rehearsed? She smiles thinking that she's a kindred spirit with her eyes closed as well just moving to the music as she was doing only moments ago.

When the blonde's eyes open and reveal a brilliant blue, Santana can't help but think she recognizes those eyes. Could it be Brittany? It's hard to tell in this light, and, well, her glasses didn't really go with this dress so her vision's about 50 percent accurate at best.

She's about 70 percent certain that's her therapist across her on the dance floor, maybe 60 percent. Okay, maybe she's half certain. Can someone be half certain? She finds herself lost in her thoughts when she sees the girl staring back across at her.

Her blonde or not, this one is definitely rocking those short shorts and is pretty alluring to watch dance. Should she go over there and say hi? What if it's not her? Or worse, what if it is?

Finishing up her internal monologue, she realizes that this blonde is still staring at her but now has a dance partner of the female variety dancing in front of her.

The blonde is moving her hands all over her dance partner while definitely staring at Santana. Her vision might suck but she can tell her eyes are trained on her, there's nothing else in her eye line near her, she's certain of that at least.

Something strikes her deep inside, somewhere, and she suddenly feels . . . angry? Or that she needs to do something other than standing there swaying to the beat alone while she's watching this display of whatever it is she's watching.

With one hand on the girl's ass in front of her, she takes her other and moves the hair from her neck as she whispers something into her ear while still keeping eye contact with the brunette across the dance floor. Suddenly, she spins her partner around and has her front pressed up to her back while she begins to nibble on that neck, not once breaking their staring contest.

 _Fuck_ , she thinks, as she feels that familiar heat pool between her legs and bites her lip while trying to clench her thighs non discreetly while still fascinated by the show that's apparently on display for her. Debating between going to the bar for another drink and staying rooted to that spot to see how this progresses, she almost involuntarily gasps when she sees the blonde's hand start to play with the waistband of the girl's pants and start to dip her fingers below while winking and smiling at the brunette locked onto her gaze.

 _Did she just fucking wink at me, what the fuck?_

She can't believe what she's watching unfold before her eyes. There is a delicious blonde, either her therapist or a random hot girl, about to fuck another girl on the dance floor while eye fucking herself and she can't deny the wetness that would be ruining yet another pair of panties, if she were wearing any that is.

Needing some type of relief, satisfaction, or something, she sidles up to Mr. Bump n' Grind and pushes her ass back into his while smirking at her opponent across the floor. Receiving a definite glare from the blonde, she realizes how to play this game.

Raising her hands into the area and grinding backwards, she's not ready when she sees her opponent's hand dip down into the pants of her dance partner and she moans at the sight before her. Her own dance partner, getting the wrong idea, grinds harder into her in return and she's sure he's just as excited as she is but for an entirely different reason.

With the blonde reaching deeper into the girl's pants and moving her hand up and down, Santana spins her partner around and moves so her thigh is between his so she can get some friction to ease her frustration while watching the blonde over his shoulder.

With a devilish grin, the blonde withdraws her hand and, _what the fuck_ , feeds it to her dance partner who sucks her fingers into her mouth.

Not being able to take anymore, Santana breaks free from her partner and heads to the bathroom to. . . do something, anything, she just needs to get out of that situation before she explodes on that dude's leg.

Excusing herself into one of the two stalls. The main reason she loves dive bars; empty bathrooms. Not particularly clean bathrooms but, hey, beggars can't be choosers right?

Leaning against the stall wall to catch her breath, she hears someone come into the bathroom giggling and then what sounds like a click, which she assumes was the lock on the door. Turning her head slightly to peak through the opening in the stall, she's not surprised to see a familiar shade of blonde whip past as footsteps shuffle into the stall next to her and the door close.

"Mmm, fuck, spread your legs for me. Now," she hears from the other side of the stall and has to bring her own hand up to her mouth to stop the main that's threatening to escape. _Should she leave? Should she stay? Should she join? Say something?_

Before too long, she decides it's too late to do anything but just wait. . . and listen.

"That's right, now touch your pussy and show me how wet you are."

Not being able to take anymore, from before and now, the brunette hikes her own dress up and moves her hand between her legs. It's now or never. Nobody will know, she thinks, and doesn't hesitate to start moving her fingers between her own dripping folds of skin. _Fuck_ , she's really wet and can't stop herself from moving down to her soaked center and pushing inside.

"Fuck, I can hear how wet you are. Taste it for me baby."

Almost moaning at the correlation to what's happening in her own stall, she pushes into herself further and feels herself deliciously clench around her fingers while squeezing her thighs trying to hold off on her approaching orgasm until the other couple leaves at least.

"I said taste it, now."

Feeling her legs shake, she leans harder against the wall to keep herself upright and she thrusts inside of herself a few more times before bringing her hand up to her face. What am I doing? She hardly has time to think the words before she finds herself bringing her fingers into her mouth and swirling her tongue around them, lapping up her own juices and biting back a moan in the process.

"Mmm, good girl, now I want you to turn around and I'm going to fuck you from behind so hard into this wall, you'll be bruised for weeks."

With indecision far behind her, she wastes no time in pushing knuckle deep back inside of her soaked pussy while she hears a persistent thudding from the stall next to her. Keeping the same pace she essentially fucks herself to the rhythm beside her.

"Rip that top off and let me so those tits, baby."

Taking the cue and palming her own breast, she closes her eyes in pleasure as she's basically fucking herself by proxy.

"Don't you fucking cum, you don't cum until I say so."

Clenching her thighs even harder at how fucking hot and wrong this is, she's fucking herself listening to another (possibly) random couple in a dirty bathroom stall next to her, she can't hold off much longer. Or any longer, really, as she feels a gush of liquid trickle down her hand and her walls clenching with a vice grip around her own fingers. To stifle the moan at the tip of her tongue, she bites down on her other hand, sure she's leaving a mark but wanting to keep as quiet as possible. With the banging and their breathing — or is it her breathing?— she's fairly certain the few whimpers that she can't help but fall from her lips were disguised under the other sounds.

"Did you just cum? Bad girl. Get on your knees and make me cum all over your pretty face, right now."

Biting down on her hand, she tries to keep quiet and keep her breathing under control while also going back into herself knuckle deep and playing with her swollen clit with her thumb. Making small circles she feels another orgasm approaching quickly, too quickly, she moves away from her clit not wanting to cum too soon.

"You see how wet you made me letting me fuck you in this bathroom and out there on that dance floor for everyone to see?"

She swears she can hear the tell-tale smacking of wet flesh being fucked from the other side of the stall which only serves to make herself wetter as she moves back to her clit and rubs herself harder.

"Move your head back and let me ride that face. Put my pussy all over your face and ride it until I cum and ruin your perfect makeup. Stick out that tongue, baby."

Turning around and leaning on her arm while continuing to bit back a moan, she uses this new position to thrust her hips into her own hand, Feeling the familiar coil of another orgasm, she slows down as much as possible to keep it at bay to prolong this as long as she can. If her first orgasm was anything to go by, she won't be able to stand after this next one or either she won't be able to stop herself from slamming open the door to the stall next to her and fucking that blonde like she deserves.

"Harder. Now. Go."

Thrusting harder and harder into her own hand, she gives up and rides her hand with abandon and furiously circles her clit while she feels herself cumming again and moans out in response. With her legs involuntarily clenching, she staggers backwards onto the closed toilet seat and tries to catch her breath.

"That's right, baby, let go."

Breathing heavily and waiting for her head to stop spinning, she begins to remember she's not alone in that bathroom and isn't sure what to do next.

"Clean yourself up and I'll see you next time," she hears as the stall door opens and shortly after the faucet runs for a moment before the door clicks open and closed.

Waiting several minutes for the other girl to leave, she peaks her head under the stall and doesn't see any feet so she cautiously exits her own stall after readjusting her dress and cleaning herself up a bit.

Making a beeline for Q, she convinces her to leave Mr. Mustache and head home together. She's exhausted and needs to sleep. Or smoke, maybe.

Realizing she basically mutually masturbated with her therapist, she's not quite sure how to proceed.

Should she text her and thank her? Ask her out? Bring it up during therapy? Act like it didn't happen? It was her, right? Google, unfortunately, wasn't very helpful this time and only brought her to erotic websites and nothing helpful on how to proceed.

Deciding to leave it up to fate, she keeps her therapy appointment that week and makes a plan to let the blonde direct how this interaction goes.

Smiling as the blonde opens the door to greet her, she goes in for a hug while Brittany seems to be going in to guide her into the room with her hand on the small of her back again which results in an awkward pat on the shoulder and half hug from the brunette.

"Nice to see you again."

Blushing and smiling to herself, she answers the blonde with, "Yes, and again so soon."

"So, tell me about your weekend, how was it?"

"Well, you know, I had a pretty great time. Twice, in fact."

"Oh, that's great news. What did you do?" her therapist asks.

Not sure how to answer her little game, she says, "Well, I did what you told me to do, like a good girl." She's got this, she thinks to herself while mentally high-fiving herself for being so smooth.

"I'm glad you're taking something away from our time together, Santana, apart from some good naps, that is," she says while lightly chuckling.

"How was your weekend, doc?" she asks playfully batting her eyelashes.

"It was pretty wet actually," she replies and the brunette's heart skips a beat. "I had this conference out of town and the weather was just yucky," she finishes with a grin.

 _What the fuck is going on? What innuendo is she making here?_ Trying to figure what the blonde is playing at, she asks, "Hmm, from all that dancing?"

"Dancing? Not really, no. I did get to spend a lot of time with my pussy this weekend though. You met him, remember? I'm glad I was able to break you out of your shell a little bit with our texts."

Now, decidedly confused with the direction of their banter, the brunette tries to make sense of what the blonde is saying. _A-ha, she can't talk about what they did because it broke the rules_ , she thinks to herself, and therefore, she must be talking in code.

"Oh, yes, those texts, among other stuff, really broke my shell this weekend, doc," she replies while bringing her fingers up to lightly lick nothing off the tip of one of them.

"Need a napkin? A few of my last clients have said that couch was a bit sticky, not sure why."

The brunette blushes as she remembers what happened to her last time she was on that couch and thinks of some possible reasons for that sticky situation. But, wait, a napkin? "Um, no?"

"Okay, suit yourself."

Scrunching her nose, the brunette tries to take in the blonde in all her glory and compare it to her memories of the Weekend Blonde, which are blurry yet amazing. _It was definitely her. It had to be, right? No, it was. I think_.

"So, doc, I actually had some questions for you."

"Go on."

"Well, I have these friends, Lisa and Kevin, and they, maybe you remember them? They came to you for some help, you know, of the bedroom variety? Not that I need any help there, as you know, but I wanted to see what you suggested in my case?"

"Well, that's a loaded question. We'd definitely need to really dig deeper into that and see what your goals are. What your fantasies are. Then, we can see if we can break you out of that shell a bit more and really get down the ditty on the dirty."

"My fantasies?"

"Sure, why don't you tell me your most recent one? Or your most recent experience?"

"Y-you know," the brunette replies, not quite sure what the blonde is getting at, again.

"Why don't you tell me in your words?"

Not sure exactly how to play this game, she decides to go ahead and describe their shared experience from this weekend.

"Hmm, well most recently, I'd say it was this shared experience with this smoking girl at the bar I was at with my friends. She was basically eye fucking me from across the room and—"

"Sorry to interrupt, but I just wanted to clarify that I heard you correctly and you said that this was a girl you were eye fucking?"

"Well, duh, a hot girl at that," she replied with a wink.

"Okay, well I had my suspicions but I didn't want to assume. That's great, San, go on."

Not sure how to take that statement either, she just decides to continue, "Well, anyway, she was teasing me all night across the dance floor and then followed me into the bathroom and fucked this other girl loud enough for me to hear. I'm not sure, but I think she got off from the fact knowing I was on the other side of the stall touching myself, What do you think? In your expert opinion?" She asks once again winking and batting her eyelashes.

"Wow, so this all really happened this weekend?" The blonde asks to which she nods her head in reply. "I'm so sorry I missed that, I mean, um, I'm sorry I was out of town, you know, in case you needed someone to talk to, that is."

"I think you did enough talking for the both of us, doc."

"Oh, yeah, about that. Please let me know if you're not comfortable at all with our conversations outside of this office, okay?"

"I thought you knew how pleased I was with our conversation."

"Yeah, well, you never can tell through text, right?"

"Or a bathroom wall," the brunette replies with a chuckle. Looking up she sees the blonde looking at her with her head titled and seemingly studying her.

Oh, God, what if it wasn't her? It totally was though. It was.

"Well, anyway, I'd love to hear more about your week."

Deciding to run things on the straight, or not-so-straight, and narrow for the time being, she delves into her week and her stresses and the fucking idiots she works with before she realizes they've, once again, gone over her time.

"Don't let me keep you late again, doc. Although at least this time I'm conscious."

"Please don't worry about that, I enjoy our time together. In fact, I was serious about seeing you more, if you're still open to it."

"I'm definitely wide open. . . to it. I want more too," she replies with a smirk. Yeah, she's got game. Sometimes. She just needs to get the blonde outside of this office, and in close proximity with good lighting, so she can figure out what's going on between them.

Because that was _definitely_ her this weekend. It had to be. Right. _Right_?

So, um, where do you guys think this heading? Or what would you like to see? Not that I _totally_ don't know exactly where it's heading... The original prompt was to include smut in every chapter, but, how feasible is that while staying (sort of realistic)? Thoughts? Abandon prompt or keep it? So many decisions. I mean, I've already decided but I just want y'all to tell me how you think it's going to go and I'll tell you if that's wrong :-P 


	4. Session Four

**Um, so, yeah... This is chapter four, apparently.**

~¥*¥~ ~¥*¥~~¥*¥~~¥*¥~

The blonde had been plaguing her mind now for awhile, and if she's being honest, since their very first session - and also maybe her very first wet dreams including said blonde.

She was next to positive it was the blonde whom she shared an exchange with on the other side of the bathroom door at the club last weekend but she wasn't completely positive and the blonde's aloof behavior during their last therapy session hadn't helped that much either.

What had changed, though, was Santana's reluctance to admit her attraction to her blonde, her therapist. After so many ruined panties, it had become hard to deny as such anymore. It was just this specific blonde, or at least that's what she kept telling herself. The other women in her pre-therapy dreams? Flukes, one-offs, _obviously._

Sexual frustration had led her to this place. A place of "game on" so to speak, where she's decided to use her given assets and charm to get to her blonde and find out what she really tastes like, among other things.

It has also brought her literally to this place - the gym.

She's hot and she doesn't get that from luck alone, she's very familiar with this place albeit not at this hour. It's close to work and coincidentally also to her therapist's office.

She's going to work out her frustration and she hasn't even noticed that it's been since before her first session since the last time she even had sex, but who's counting, right? In this place, she can work on defining those abs just a little bit more and watching the frustration ease out of her in the form of sweat and pain.

It's when she finds herself wondering what kinds of exercises Brittany must do to keep those endless legs in shape, she pushes herself even further when she'd normally be asleep.

This feeling of, not wanting to murder everyone and everything she sees before her morning coffee(s) is alarming, yet, not entirely unwelcome. It must be due to her new exercise regimen and absolutely nothing to do with the presence of a certain bubbly fair-haired character in her life.

While debating internally on whether to curse at the slow walkers ahead of her, just to keep up her rep, she sees a flash of yellow up ahead and immediately recognizes that hue.

"Britt!" She immediately calls out without even having any time to think and sees those bright blue eyes and electric smile looking back at her.

Stopping her pace, the blonde waits and then walks in tandem with her.

"Funny seeing you here. What's a girl like yourself doing in a place like this?"

"Oh, you know, thought I'd see what the world looks like before all the bullshit from the morning takes over," she grins in response.

"I like the way you put that. Are you headed anywhere in particular? I'm going to the coffee shop up the way to work on some notes myself and I'd never say no to some company," she winks as she replies.

Thinking that fate has lobbed an easy one up for her, she readily agrees and lies saying she was already heading there. Who doesn't love coffee after a hard workout?

Workout. That equals sweat. Which equals stankiness. _Thanks, Fate_ , she sighs as she resigns herself to this destiny that's manifested in front of her.

"Wow, I never realized how - how, ripped you are, San. I mean, not in a bad way, in a good way. Obviously I knew you were super fi-fit, but, you know, seeing you here glistening in the light in those tiny clothes," she groans, "I just mean, it's good, you know, to stay active. It's been linked to being good for your mental health is all," she finishes while lowering her head to drink her coffee and possibly trying to hide the blush from creeping up her face.

"Thanks, Doc, coming from you, I mean, that's saying a lot."

"You're welcome. I'm glad to impart my knowledge wherever I can."

"You can totally part me whenever," she laughs and bumps her elbow. Hoping to elicit some of the flustered feelings she feels when the blonde initiates the flirty banter.

"Hmm, okay, well, yeah," the blonde trails off while looking for even more sugar to pour into her already over saturated coffee.

"So, tell me, do you have any other patients like me?"

"Nobody's like you, San. So, no, but I couldn't tell you even if I did."

"Well we always talk about me, what about you, Doc?"

"What do you want to know?"

"Whatever you want to tell me. Age, sex, location, measurements? What's it really like helping people with their sex lives?"

"It's hot, I mean, it can be depending on the person. Other times I just need to use my imagination and be very direct. It's almost like having the sex with a new person for the first time, learning what makes them tick, what turns them on, what they're holding back. Sometimes, with some patients, it can be really rewarding and others not so much. If I must confess, though, other than during my internship, I've really only worked with one other couple and you. I mean, I'm really good, don't worry. At the counseling."

"I'd imagine you are."

She ponders over this information for awhile and wonders which category she falls into. It's definitely, fun, or interesting, on her side at least.

"And what do you think I'm holding back, Doc?" She says as she lightly slides her fingers up the blonde's outstretched arm.

"Well," the blonde begins, "I think that you're just opening up to new possibilities and that you'd really like to be told what to do by someone who's in charge and knows what she's doing, er, they're doing."

"Hmm, that's an interesting theory and from our experience last weekend, I'd say you're onto something there. But I'd like to make it clear that I'd only allow that for certain people, in fact, probably a very select few," she reveals as she plays with the bottom hem of the blonde's jeans under the table in front of her. "Speaking of bathroom stalls, I need to go powder my nose, don't go anywhere," she says as she leaves for the bathroom to calm her nerves and assess her hair situation after bending slightly to pet a dog and looking back to catch the blonde obviously watching and then immediately turning her head back to her laptop.

After a sappy pep talk in the mirror, which garnered a few odd looks which were met with her signature glare, she returns to the table with her confident facade back in place.

"I didn't know you had a tattoo," she says referencing the one on her lower back apparently on display when she bent down to greet the aforementioned dog. "I only noticed when you were petting that husky, he was so cute," she coughs and Santana notices a slight blush once again.

"Oh, that old thing, that's also only for select people," she says playfully while deciding not to mention the dog was small poodle and definitely not a husky.

After spending some time in the neutral conversation territory of the blonde's job, she decides to make a graceful exit, she should get to work at some point she guesses.

Making the move to give the blonde a hug and skimming her hand down her arm ever so slowly as she moves back, she says, "Can't wait to start seeing you more, Doc."

"Yeah, about that, I forgot to give it to you last time, but you can FaceTime me on that same number I gave you. Seriously, like, if you need to just talk or whatever, don't hesitate. There's like legit therapy that's done over video now, so it's totally, you know, legit?"

Spending the rest of the day, more or less, trying to figure the blonde out, Santana decides to use the FaceTime invitation to her advantage to further suss out this whole situation, relationship, that she's in.

She's no stranger to figuring out when men are attracted to her and flirting and she's getting the same vibe here but she's never had to, or wanted to, analyze those types of interactions with women. There's some similarities there between how she interacts with Q, or other friends of the female variety she's had, but with this blonde, she feels - lighter? Tinglier? - _Fuck, what's happened to me_ , she thinks.

Deciding to imbibe some alcoholic drinks with Q that night, she comes home, not drunk. _Definitely_.

Well, maybe drunk enough to FaceTime a certain therapisty friend of hers - or at least drunk enough to blame it all on the alcohol.

Quinn's an unabashed square sometimes and she's home early enough that it wouldn't be too late to call, maybe. Without thinking much further than that, she opens her laptop and makes the call.

Suddenly, Brittany's grinning face is on her screen and she can't help but giggle and smile and she doesn't even care.

"Hey, I'm glad you're up, you're up, right? You're not sleeping?" She asks the blonde.

"No, wide awake and I'm glad you called! I hate to cut our chat short though, but I've got to jet, I was actually on my way out but wanted to answer. If you're up for it though, I'll be back in a few hours?"

Trying to hide her disappointment she replies, "No, I'm actually going to bed, no, I mean going out. I'm going out later, maybe tomorrow, though, Doc."

"Sounds perfect, have fun and talk to and see you tomorrow," she says with another wink.

Closing her laptop and pouting, actually _fucking pouting_ , she decides to partake of some more wine and some Netflix.

After finding a series about, you guessed it, a blonde therapist, she's definitely feeling worse than before. Or better? _My blonde is way hotter than Noami Watts_ , she thinks to herself while deciding to help ease some of her sexual frustration and since her vision is even worse after drinking, she decides to use her laptop for some visual inspiration.

Virus-filled porn websites be damned, that's why she has a Mac after all, right?

Opening her laptop, she's surprised at how well Siri seems to know her when she already hears moaning coming from the speakers.

Wondering what kind of setting she had enabled, she opens up her tabs and is momentarily breathless when she realizes that her FaceTime call is still connected. Five hours and counting, _this must be some record_ , she thinks to herself once her composure has been regained.

Suddenly, she almost shrieks when she realizes her squinting face must be adorning the blonde's computer and then angles her laptop to the side to effectively remove herself from the camera lens but still giving herself a view of what's unfolding before her.

 _I should definitely turn this off._

 _Or maybe she wants me to see this?_

And with that second thought entering her head, she's decided she must continue on. In all actuality she doesn't think she could bring herself to closing down that app even if she wanted to.

Turning down her lights, she takes a moment to really see what's on her screen. Perhaps it's just a movie playing in the background?

Moving a tad closer to her screen, she can make out the outline of the blonde in her bed across the room from where her laptop is facing. She can make out two long slender legs bent and resting on the bed and, _holy fuck_ , a hand moving between them.

Seeing this and hearing the blonde's throaty moans coupled together only works to send a dangerous heat between her own legs.

Giving in with a raspy, _oh what the hell_ , she removes her own shorts and tentatively begins to rub herself over her already damp panties. Feeling the relaxing tingling sensation building slowly throughout when she hits her clit, she makes use of her other hand to move under her shirt and massage her own breast that's aching for a certain blonde's hot mouth.

"Oh, shit, mmm," emanates from her speakers and she's instantly much wetter than just a moment ago.

Noticing that the blonde has now shifted to the side so she can see her amazing pussy on display, although with a pale hand and a long distance between her and that pussy, but she can definitely make out how her hand is buried inside and her toes are curling.

Throwing her head back, she can almost imagine what it would be like to have the blonde underneath her with that dripping pussy wide open for her to ravage and she can't even decide what she'd want to do first. It's a tough call between tasting her, filling her up knuckle deep, worshipping her fantastic tits, or working her way up her neck and to her mouth to leave small bruises along the way to mark the blonde as hers.

Playing out her fantasy in her head sends her hand into overdrive and trying to push her panties to the side to enter herself causes more frustration but she doesn't want to stop fucking herself because it feels _so, so_ _good_.

Groaning, she takes them off and places them over her own camera lens so she can get a better angle for the show that's on display for her, or at least she's running with that thought for now.

 _Jesus fucking holy fuck_ , she almost cries out, or hope she didn't at least, when she sees that the blonde has now moved into an almost sitting position with one leg hiked up onto the bed while she's for all intents and purposes pretty much grinding on her own hand and mirroring the brunette with her other hand on her breast kneading it roughly.

Involuntarily spreading her legs even further apart, she's able to get a better angle to that spot and uses her thumb to circle around her clit with ease with all of her juices coating her hand.

"Oh, fuck, I'm gonna-"

"No, baby, not yet," she groans without even thinking but only being driven by her desire.

Picking up her speed, she fucks herself faster and crooks her finger trying desperately to hit that spot with each thrust thinking that the blonde would be able to fill her perfectly with her long fingers and she'd willingly submit if she got to feel her - and taste her - and fuck her.

Hearing the loudest strangled moan yet coming from her speaker, she's not able to hold off and longer and throws herself back onto her bed and works her clit furiously with her thumb and tries to keep reaching that spot.

Wanting to feel everything at once, she uses her other hand to rub at her clit while still fucking herself with the hand that's buried deep inside her own soaked pussy.

Feeling her own walls deliciously pulsing around her own fingers along with the heavy ragged breathing from the other side of her laptop screen, her orgasm wracks over her and causes her toes to curl and her hand to shoot out and clench her sheets as she rides through this bed-shattering orgasm and not even caring yet about the pool of juices undoubtedly soaking into her sheets.

After the last of the pulsations cease, she relaxes into her bed to regain control of her vision and breathing with her hand still buried knuckle deep as she's not quite ready to lose that fullness just yet.

After several moments, minutes, hours? - of relaxation she thinks she could fall asleep in that position she's so incredibly relaxed. _Better than meditation_ , she thinks with a smirk.

Begrudgingly she forces herself to get up to at least change her sheets - _and oh, God_ \- turn off her computer.

Reaching for the laptop, she screams and rolls off the bed from what she didn't expect to be starting back at her and knocking over her bag and a few books on the way and certainly causing a commotion in the process.

A giant literal fat pussy cat.

One she remembers from not that long ago from a certain blonde's phone background.

Reaching up and opting to just power off the laptop itself, she's almost positive she hears a faint giggling in the background.

After ending up not having the amazing post (self)coitus sleep she had been expecting and waking up at least a trillion times, she decides she needs to settle this with her blonde therapist.

 _I need to see you_ , she texts.

Only a few moments later she gets a response; _I have an opening at 1, I'll see you then._

Not exactly what she had in mind but she thinks that perhaps a safe place would actually be better for her to woman up and sort her shit out. If she's manifested this all in her head, she's ready to deal with that - totally.

If she dreamt fucked her therapist yet again, she's also ready for that - _maybe_.

Outcome be damned, she just needs to be frank with the blonde.

 _Or not Frank, I'll be Santana with her_ , she tells herself. Without being able to stop giggling at her amazing humor she thinks, _fuck I'm still drunk_ , before falling back to sleep.

With some of the bravado still intact from her liquid fueled night, she marches into the blonde's office with her head held high and signature mark on her face. She's going to take the bull by the horns and all that shit.

She's greeted with a radiant smile and a genuine, "It's so great to see you again so soon,"

and she's suddenly dissipated into putty in the blonde's hands and she grins back and mutters her own, "Ditto, doc."

Sitting down on the couch, she tries to give herself an internal pep talk to snap the fuck out of it and lay down the law.

"I just wanna say that I'm so proud of you for reaching out last night, Santana. I'm only sorry I wasn't available."

"Well, you seemed wide open to me," the brunette smirks.

"What? Well, in any case, that should've been a one off and I'll do my best to be more accessible in the future."

"A one off you say? Don't worry about it, doc, I did get one off so no complaints here," she says and internally high fives herself with her amazingly punny innuendos that's sure to crack this blonde code. "Although, I'll admit I was quite startled to see your pussy last night on my screen," she says and takes note of the blush that seems to be creeping up the blonde's face and continues, "I think I had forgotten how large your pussy is, took me off guard."

Finally, I'm getting the upper hand here, she begins to think when she realizes her own smile isn't being matched by her therapist who looks rather - serious?

Losing her semblance of dominance rather quickly, she tries to backtrack and make up for lost ground. "I only mean, you know, your cat is so huge and I had really wanted to talk to you and, you know, just, well..." she trails off not quite knowing how to finish that sentence.

Focusing on inhaling and exhaling for the next several awkward moments she tries to count how many times the blonde smiles but comes up with a disappointing zero.

Finally her therapist speaks and says, "Look, Santana, I know what you're doing, okay? And honestly I can't work with this any longer. I really think you'd benefit from further counseling but I'm going to have to terminate this between us."

Sporting what's she sure is a shocked expression on her face, she's not sure where that came from and starts trying to devise a way with her words to repair the situation. "Look, doc, I was only kidding - half kidding. I must've been reading things wrong but I hope you know how much I'm gaining from our sessions. You're like the most therapyist therapist out there and I wouldn't want anyone else, Britt," leaving out the _please_ she said in her head after her statement.

"That's all great and so, so nice of you to say but this ends here. I'll be more than happy to send your records along to anyone else and give you some recommendations but you need to leave."

"You can't be serious?" the brunette all but cries out, trying to wrack her brain for what instigated this turn of events and the burning heat she can now see in those blue eyes. _Jesus, if looks could kill._

Without waiting for a response, she continues, "Fine, I can take it, I'm a big girl. I'm not going to beg to stay where I'm not wanted. Unless that's what you want?"

Looking deep into her eyes and seeing not hint of a change, she changes tactics again, "No? Yeah, I was just kidding, that's fine by me. I thought this therapy bullshit was bullshit anyway," she keeps on saying as she gathers her stuff and gets up to leave and for once sees a change in the blonde's expression. "No, that's not true, I was just being an ass. But, whatever, thanks for nothing, doc," she says solemnly as she stands at the door halfway through the threshold.

The blonde gets up and Santana just knows she's going to come and wrap her up in a hug or she'll wake up and realize it was a booze fueled dream when instead, Brittany turns to go to her desk and work on some papers although she seems much more fidgety than normal with her tapping her pen and her foot.

With one final longing glance, she leaves the blonde's office and doesn't look back - or at least doesn't get caught looking back.

With every step to her car, her rage seems to increase and settle directly in her breasts. She begins to think of a million brilliant retorts she should've have used which would've convinced the blonde rescind her decision.

But then again, the look in the blonde's eyes seemed so _heated_ , she's not sure anything could've convinced her otherwise.

Resting her head on the steering wheel, she has a fleeting urge to play some Toni Braxton and crying in the rain before she finds herself wishing, for once, to wake up from this terrible dream.

She keeps waiting ... _and waiting_...


	5. Session Five

HAPPY VALENTINES DAY

* * *

Sitting in her car hanging her head on the steering wheel, Santana was going over the events from just a few moments ago when her blonde, or she guesses she's not hers anymore and apparently never was, broker off their relationship and kicked her out.

Granted, not-her-blonde _was_ her therapist, _operative word being was_ , she thinks to herself and groans while lightly banging her head on the steering wheel wondering where it all went wrong. She had been so sure there was something going on between them. Something decidedly more than just a therapist slash patient thing, what with all the flirting, touches, stolen glances, and not to mention she's next to positive it was the blonde at the club in the the stall next to her fucking some girl knowing she was listening and she must've been aware the FaceTime call was still going when she gave her that little show. Right?

 _Oh god, did I make all this up in my head?_

 _I did, didn't I?_

 _The first hot blonde I meet, after maybe not so subtly realizing I might be interested in playing for the other team, and I go and fuck it up royally and misdirect my bullshit and sexual frustration onto her. It's not her fault she has perfect abs, endless legs, amazingly blue eyes, a perfectly selfless and amazing personality, that fucking giggle and smile, and, god, the way she dances..._

She had been so sure she wasn't creating something out of nothing but then again she also was sure that Brittany wouldn't have done something like this either and, therefore, she's not really sure what to believe anymore.

Going through so many emotions at once, hurt, sadness, shock, jealously, embarrassment, shame...she's surprised that anger had only briefly and very slightly reared its ugly head during the whole debacle. Had it been anyone else, she'd be marching back into that office to quit her therapist and give her a piece of her mind, nobody dumps Santana Lopez.

Realizing that she doesn't even hate the blonde in the slightest, she slumps even further into the steering wheel. _Jesus, what did I do and how the fuck do I fix this?_

 _She had seemed pretty adamant that I needed to leave her office right away. Christ, did I fuck up that badly that she had to get rid of me right away? How did I already lose the perfect blonde, er perfect therapist, after only four goddamn sessions?_

Without much more time to wallow in her self misery, she hears someone coming towards her in the definitely creepy and isolated parking garage she's in and decides to get her ass in gear and get out of there when her heart almost forgets to keep beating when she realizes whose footsteps those belong to.

Not even thinking twice, she starts to get out of her car and pleads, "Listen, Britt, I'm so, so, fucking so-"

She's stopped in her tracks by the look in the blonde's eyes as she's coming right towards her.

And that's when it all comes crashing down on her and the blonde doesn't stop until she's standing right in front of her and immediately reaches to grab the back of her head while simultaneously using the other to push on her chest and move their bodies together while pushing the brunette against the car for support and eagerly crashing their lips together.

As their lips are sliding together for the first time, it's like they fit perfectly between each other. With her eyes closed enjoying this moment she's literally dreamed of, she almost groans when it's over way too soon and the blonde pulls back, disconnecting their lips.

With parted lips, heavy breathing, and dark, dark eyes, she finds the blonde mirroring her and staring between her eyes and her lips almost as though she's making a silent decision.

Nodding ever so slightly involuntarily as if to give silent motivation to the blonde before her, she slides her hands to her hips and tightens her grip which seems to spurn the blonde's own actions as she dives back into another heated kiss.

This time parting her lips and eagerly swiping them along full, plump lips, Santana can't help but oblige as she parts her lips further and connects their tongues for the first time.

She's aware of a hand tangling in her hair and another somewhere else on her body, but barely as she's overcome by what's happening with this kiss that turns into another, and another, and another.

It's almost as if their tongues have known each other for lifetimes and know exactly how to dance together yet at the same time it's as though they've never met and are fulfilling their life's purpose in exploring each other.

The brunette, while a self-admitted lover of getting her mack on, she's never been so overcome in a make out session, or so sappy when it comes to things flying in and out of her mind while learning the taste and feel of the blonde's mouth and vice versa.

It quickly becomes way too much, or at least as far as her lungs are concerned and she, reluctantly, parts their lips to seek comfort in the blonde's neck while she's recovering her breath. This does not seem to affect the blonde in the least, however, as it seems her lungs are insatiable and she could continue and continue and continue.

However, though, she takes her own respite in the brunette's neck but uses her endless energy to mark her neck with her tongue and taste the skin there with reverence as she breathes hotly into the ear she finds there, "God, I've wanted to do that for so long. You don't even know what you do to me, Santana."

As if signing her declaration wit her tongue, she licks the shell of her ear for good measure and can't even describe the feeling as that elicits a soft moan from the brunette.

As she pushes the brunette's short dress up further, she's able to grab her leg behind her knee to hoist it up onto the car for support as she maneuvers her own leg in-between and presses herself fully into the girl in front of her.

"And, Jesus Christ, these dresses of yours, it's been hard to think of anything other than bending you over and fucking you in them," she continues almost breathlessly as she nips at her exposed collarbone and squeezes into the thigh she's cradling that's hoisted around her hip now.

"Fuck, I-I..." is all Santana can manage to get out before she takes the initiative this time and guides the blonde's delicious lips back to hers and begins to tangle their tongues together while moving her hand from her neck into her long, blonde hair and moving the other down to that strong hip to help push it even closer to her own.

At this point, she's pinned to the threshold of her car's opening, not sitting yet not quite standing. It's almost as if she's pinned to the spot with a firm thigh between her legs and the other leg hoisted around the blonde as her weight's being supported. In no time, she finds herself starting to grind on the thigh between her legs as the blonde pushes impossibly closer into her.

This seems to take them both surprise as they suddenly break their kiss to look down between them at the sexy scene that somehow seems to be happening unbeknownst to them. Santana is still looking down, admiring how amazing the blonde's pale leg looks between her own as she rides up and down on it, when she looks up to find her former therapist staring directly at her with a glint in her eye.

Backing away slightly, Brittany takes her hand and tells her to follow her and closes the drivers side door as she starts to lead her off into the opposite direction.

"Wait, wait," the brunette says while stopping her pace which causes the blonde to swing around to face her.

Reaching her hand up to grab her face and bring it to her own, she kisses her once, twice, and then once more for good measure before she admits, "Sorry, just couldn't wait."

With that, she's suddenly being turned around and pushed over the trunk of her car with the blonde pressed against her back as her pale arm reaches around to roughly pull her dress down from the top to take her full breast into her hand and massage the amazing tit it reveals. She uses her other hand to sweep the hair from her neck while again using her tongue to map out the skin there and pin her to the car with her hips pressing into her ass.

"You make me _so fucking wet_ , god. I hadn't planned on making you leave so I could fuck you against your own car but, shit, I can't even stop myself, I want to be inside of you so, _so bad_."

And with that, she runs her hand along her back and presses her down, effectively bending her over the car as she leans down to whisper in her ear, "Now, pull up your dress a little higher and spread those legs."

Looking over her should and staring directly into those now dark but still very blue eyes, she bites her lip and moves her dress a little higher towards her hips.

"Good, girl," the blonde coos as she moves her hand up her inner thigh and teases a finger over the silky material she finds there.

"Hmmm, not the only wet one here, I see," as she teases a finger underneath the material and slides her finger just slightly through the wet folds she can reach to which the brunette arches her back and moves her hips lower assist.

"Do you want me to fuck you here up against your own car in this dirty garage for anyone to see, San?"

"God yes," she immediately replies. "I mean no, I mean, I don't know. I want to taste you so fucking badly, Britt,"she groans, "please."

"That can be arranged," the blonde purrs against her neck and she slowly pulls her dress back down and steps away but not before slapping her on the ass and telling her to follow.

Leading her quickly to a nondescript door, she tells her, "Go inside, now," as she unlocks the door and holds it open.

She immediately complies and waits right by the door as the blonde closes and locks it once more. What must be an unused storage room, maybe office, or just who knows, she's met with a room with extra office furniture bunched around but couldn't care less about where she is as long as the blonde makes good on her promise.

Striding over to an oversized arm chair, she pulls the brunette with her and tells her to stand between her legs as she's seated.

The blonde leans back and playfully props her arms onto the chair and instructs her to, "lift your dress slowly to your hips."

"Now."

This only seems to send more heat and arousal directly between the brunette's legs but she's not one to deny her requests as she pulls her dress higher and playfully swings her hips back and forth as she watches the blonde stare down at her body that's on display.

"Now turn around."

With that, Brittany stands up and runs her hands up along the toned legs in front of her and moves up to her neck where she moves her hair aside to give her mouth access to that neck to nibble and lick the flesh there to sooth the light sting. "Now, I think these need to come off, what do you think?" she purrs into her ear while reversing her actions from before and moving her hands back down those firm legs but this time bringing the black silky panties with them.

All Santana can manage to get out in return is an "Mm-hmm," in acknowledgement.

Now running her hands over the smooth skin of the ass in perfect view in their position and giving it a playful, yet firm, slap, she beckons the brunette who looks over her shoulder in admonishment to come sit down between her own spread legs on the oversized chair.

With the brunette right where she wants, figuratively and literally, she once again moves her hair to the side so she can fit her head in that now vacant crook to look down at their shared view of Santana's half naked lower body on display.

"Mm, that's more like it," she says as she wraps her arms around the torso in front of her and moves up to the breasts begging for her attention where she once again roughly pulls down the fabric to expose both.

Taking both full breasts in her hands is enough to send the brunette's head backwards while letting out a deep moan.

"Spread your legs for me, baby."

Momentarily doing the opposite to fruitlessly try to inhibit the arousal pooling between them at the blonde's words, she then eagerly complies and spreads her legs and adjusts her position a bit to stave off the cool air that's now all around her dripping pussy.

"Britt, come on."

"Come on, what? Your pretty face? Mmmm."

With a loud groan, and almost an embarrassing amount of wetness now seeping onto the chair from that mental image, she takes the lead and grabs the blonde's hand from where it's still massaging her breast and puts it down between her legs.

With a grunt, she repeats, " _Come on_."

"Sweet Jesus, you're so wet and ready for me. I knew you had it in you," the blonde says as she licks the shell of her ear and drives her middle finder inside Santana which elicits another guttural moan and causes a hand to fly up and grab the back her former therapist's head and squeeze tightly as she enjoys the feeling of finally, _finally_ being filled by Brittany.

Using her thumb to rub around her clit, which is already nice and well lubricated from her own dripping juices, she also begins to thrust her finger in and out at a steady pace.

"You think you can take more?" She husks into her ear and as soon as the brunette nods her head, she's inserting another finger and thrusting harder than before.

"Fuck, that's so _fucking_ hot," Santana admits as she moves her head back forward and looks down at the view on full display for her; Long pale fingers disappearing into her pussy over and over again, knuckle deep and glistening from the wetness soaking her pussy and consequently the chair as well.

Looking down as well and only managing a moan in approval, the blonde also takes in the sight and involuntarily licks her lips while still going full force filling the brunette as best as she can.

If she thought watching those fingers disappear was hot, watching the blonde watch her own actions is even hotter and she finds herself not being able to stop from pulling her face to hers and tasting that tongue she's come to really like.

Sucking her tongue into her mouth and exploring her mouth once more, she somehow breaks free and tells her, "Mmm, I really want to know what you taste like."

Not being able to contain the moan that comes from her throat, the blonde seems to make up for it with renewed vigor as she adds another finger and begins to put her body into fucking the girl before her.

"Tell me again."

"I want to taste your pussy until you cum screaming my name."

Suddenly, the blonde is bringing her face to hers again to engage in another heated kiss while simultaneously removing her own shorts but has to remove her fingers in the process which causes a slight whimper from the brunette at the loss.

Mirroring her appearance with her bottom half now exposed as well, the blonde instructs, "Lay back for me, baby," and seals that command with a kiss.

"Okay, but first," Santana says as she turns slightly and rips open her button up shirt, causing a button to fly off. Once that's out of the way, she pulls her bra down and takes a nipple into her mouth sucking on the nub and swirling her tongue around it.

"Fuck, I liked that shirt," she hears the blonde moan as the nipple in her mouth hardens. Not wanting to miss out, she uses her other hand to massage the other perfect tit and rub that nipple between her fingers as it matches its twin.

"Okay, I'm good," the brunette says and smiles lazily as she turns around and complies by sliding back and laying down on the chair facing upwards. She smirks as she takes in the blonde's appearance with her mouth parted, breathing heavily, with her eyes closed.

As soon as she appears to regain her composure she looks down at Santana beneath her and asks if she's ready for what she asked for.

Reaching her hands up to grab onto the blonde's hips is enough answer for her and she slowly lowers herself down to the hungry mouth below her. Hovering just above those plump lips, she lets her make the move and take control of the situation.

Feeling the heat and smelling the wet pussy within a tongue's reach from her, she moans at the thought of what she's about to do and how much she wants it. Throwing caution and timidness to the wind about the fact that she's never done this before, she moves her tongue out and runs it all along the slit above her.

What she doesn't expect is for simultaneous moans to come from both herself and the blonde above her at that motion. Her from the amazing taste and feel and the blonde from, _god, what she hopes is a good job_.

She starts to explore a bit more and uses her tongue to push between the two folds perfectly, as though it was made exactly for her tongue. Once familiar with the folds and after having coated them thoroughly with her own saliva, she uses her hands to move the girl above her in tandem with her own ministrations. She begins looking for her clit and finds it easily, as it's swollen and throbbing. Even if she hadn't been sure, the sudden thrust of the hips she's buried in, gives her a good indication she's found the right spot and feels increased wetness to corroborate.

She soon begins to find the spot just to the left side of her clit and the perfect pressure that seems to produce the deepest moans and gets her chin and her face into it and is completely consumed in eating that pussy until she makes good on her word to have her cum screaming her name.

Imagining that sound sends her arousal into overdrive and she can't even stop her own hand from traveling down her body and playing with her own clit, not that she would want to stop herself.

With the brunette's head moving back and forth so vigorously and her _amazing_ tongue working her slit so well, she had to throw her head back and close her eyes to stave off her orgasm for _just a little bit longer_.

She makes her fatal mistake, though, and looks down to find Santana playing with herself while eating her out and that builds her up faster than she'd like to admit.

"Fuck, that's so, mmmm, shit," she says as she leans over to remove the brunette's hand and replace it with hers where she picks right back up and starts fucking her again hard while rubbing her clit.

As the brunette moans below her, the sound plus the vibrations plus her tongue and the glorious pussy she's knuckle deep in, causes her to spill over the edge as her orgasm runs through her and spills onto the brunette's chin as she eagerly continues to lap up her juices and moan.

With a final gush of arousal, she cries out, "Shit, fu-fuuuck, San, oh my god."

As hot liquid accompanies the blonde's cries and she can't lap up the juices quick enough, she can't stand it any longer and lets go into her own orgasm as her walls clench around the fingers inside of her and put what seems like a vice grip on them as Brittany can't move them even though she tries as her walls continue to pulse deliciously around those digits and she moans into the pussy she's still working to clean up above her.

Riding it out and continuing to lazily lick at the folds still on her face, she smirks and says a muffled, "Told you so."

Brittany groans and pulls her fingers out and up to her face but before moving them any further, she looks down and finds a pair of dark eyes watching her every move and then stares directly into those eyes as she slowly and tantalizingly puts them into her mouth and sucks them clean.

"Mmm, you taste so _fucking_ good," she says after removing her fingers with a pop, "come here."

As the brunette sits up to face her she laughs out a, "Took the words from my mouth." and watches as the blonde grabs her neck and pulls her in for another heated kiss but this time both of their tastes are mixing together and she feels it straight between her legs and if she had any energy left, she'd be ready for a round two right now.

She decides, instead, to enjoy her current predicament, that of being attached to a delicious mouth with an equally delicious tongue swirling and dancing with her own so she pushes into her and wraps her arms around her back as she continues to get her mack on.

With their hands tangled in each other's hair and hands roaming over backs and hips and waists, they soon run out of breath and reluctantly part.

"Best therapy session ever," Santana jokes as she nuzzles into her neck trying to catch her breath.

"Totally, I could just kiss you forever."

"Mmm, yeah," the brunette confirms. _I could totally do this forever too_ , she thinks as her heart rate begins to speed up. Suddenly she's hit with the realization that she just was face deep in pussy, in her therapist's pussy nonetheless, or former therapist or whatever she is, and now she's actually cuddling. Fucking cuddling and likes it.

Beads of sweat start forming along her underboob and she starts to panic. She can't blame this on being drunk or doing it for the attention of guys at a party or somewhere and she definitely can't deny how fucking turned on she was to make her blonde cum all over her face.

As rational thinking goes out the window and her bitchy alter-ego takes over, she jumps up out of the chair and starts frantically looking for her clothes.

"Yeah, sorry about that, I just couldn't wait any longer and this was the first place I thought of. Don't worry, we own this space and nobody ever comes down here, trust me."

"Yeah, what the fuck was that all about? Throwing me out of your office and shit?"

"Oh, that," the blonde laughs as she remembers the preceding events and starts to explain, "I hope you know, San, that I-" is all she manages to get out before she's cut off by the brunette's vicious, vicious words.

"You know what, never mind, I've gots to go anyway. Got places to go, people to see. I'm not here because I'm in love with you or anything, okay? Got it?"

"Yeah, I just-"

"Good, now where the fuck are my keys," she says as she's frantically looking around the room trying to play it cool from the panic that's consuming her entire being. "Ugh, where are my goddamned keys?" she cries out in frustration as the blonde picks up her shirt and finds the keys underneath and hands them out to the brunette.

When she takes the keys from her, she uses that opportunity to hold her hand together with both of hers and force eye contact with the brunette.

Huffing and finally sparing a moment to look into those blue eyes, some of her bravado wavers and she thinks she should stay and cuddle and bask in the post coital bliss her body seems to be yearning for.

As soon as that thought comes into her mind, though, it seems to be chased out by the thoughts of what her friends will say, what her coworkers would say, or _god forbid_ , her family. _They'd be okay with it, right, it's 2018 after all_. But she's _not_ a lesbian so why is she even thinking about repercussions of coming out - as straight.

Squeezing the pale hand before hers and silently regretting and telling her heart to shut up over what she's about to do, she pulls her hand away and turns around, the eye contact being too much.

"Yeah, about that, doc, no worries. I guess I'll see you around."

And with that she leaves the office slash storage room and the blonde sitting within it.

As quickly as she left the room and heard the door close, she turns around immediately and moves to open the door and go back inside.

 _What kind of jackass am I? She's all pure and innocent and perfect and shit and I'm...not._

 _I should just go back in, apologize for my mini-freak out, and be done with it. She'll understand, she's a therapist for fucks sake._

 _My therapist._

 _Or former therapist, I guess. Does this mean she's my therapist again?_

 _What the fuck does this mean?_

With her hand still on the handle, she groans as she battles her own mind and strong will.

 _It doesn't mean anything. I was sexually frustrated and she was willing, that's all. Lizard style. Just go home and pretend like you do this all the time, it's normal._

Giving into her own demons, she removes her hand and makes her way to her car where she quickly finds herself back in the same position with her head hanging over the steering wheel as though her heart knows she's fucking up but her head won't admit it.

Turning the ignition and putting the car into reverse, then back into park, and then once again into reverse, she's bangs her hands on the steering wheel and lets out a frustrated yell.

 _Fuck!_

 _Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!_

 _Well, even if I wanted to, which I don't, I can't go back in there now. It's been way too long and it would be awkward, right? So there's really no decision here to make, if there ever was one._

 _I mean, she probably just felt bad for kicking me out and, who knows, maybe she was bicurious or something and she knew she'd never see me again. I am hot._

 _She did say she had been waiting to do that though?_

 _Everyone says crazy things in the heat of the moment though. Yeah, totally, that's it._

 _Really, if you think about it, the ball's in her court - if there was a ball, or even a court. Fuck balls, ew._

As she drives out of the garage, her eyes are focused only on her rearview mirror and it's a miracle she makes it out of there without a scratch or without causing major property damage.

She's not even sure what would hurt worse, to see that blonde hair as she drives away looking for her or to not see her as she steels herself and forces her eyes forward.

But it's okay, it's totally okay. Because that was a one-time thing that neither of them has to mention again.

 _Then why did it feel so fucking amazing_ , she thinks as she licks her lips and can still taste the blonde.

As she pulls up to the exit, she pauses once more to take a deep breath and think things over and she hangs her head as she revs her engine and exits the garage.


End file.
